he told her not to forget the mustard
in the cake and baking aisle of the washington street store
on an ordinary gloomy monday afternoon
he carried one packet of cigarettes and tin foil
a dry crooked stranger smile
she remembers now the way he smelled of instant coffee
and lemon meringue
how later she stuffed her fingertips into his skin
like maraschino cherries for wounds
whipped egg white laugher
while they went searching for sugar

imogen
met her new boyfriend at the super market