Third Eye

by Wanda Morrow Clevenger

I fell into an easy friendship
with the new girl unlike me
she didn't commute an hour to work
knew her way around a big city
introduced me to ken outside
my radar

like the eyeball ring at the headshop
I had passed blind a dozen times
making for the Estée counter
we both tried it on but she couldn't
swing the price tag and I couldn't
wrap my head around mystic milieu.

At a Thursday night sleepover
we had some beers at a dark bar,
me casing the boys
who weren't boys.

I had learned a new dance step
to Thursday dark bar music
and another thing;
I was relieved she had twin beds.

Just for grins, I was tempted
to buy the eyeball ring
but by then neither of us needed
third eye vision.