Mary keeps to herself
secreted within the lidded confines of
pale blue eyes

You can see her
Saturday mornings at the coffee shop
far end of the counter
thin fingers curling around a chipped cup

The others never approach her
the blue band of electricity
not seen
clearing keeping all comers at bay

She talks to no-one
and it always replies

Animated
her head tilts back
and laughs
or she leans in
to hear a whisper

I sat with her once
a hangover bravery
filling my pounding skull
I decided to sit with the weird woman
and learn her secrets

She looked at me
then through
and continued the conversation
with the counter.

I asked her
who the fuck she was talking too

She paused
and her hand disengaged from the cup

She reached over and touched my cheek
before I could jolt my face away

Are you so scared of the truth?
she asked me
her eyes impaling me to the stool

I reached up to take her hand away
and the cold of it held my action

So cold I was sure her skin
had frozen burned itself
to my face and I would walk forever more
with the slap of her voice
imprinted on me

Those pale blue eyes
summed me up
the hand smoothly slipped away
and returned to there place
around the coffee cup

Later
home alone
I asked myself the same question

and the answer is yes