Literalists in the Office

What day do you want me to come in and do filing?”

“Just coordinate with Margaret.
Whatever you arrange is fine with me.”

Margaret discards
legal assistance,
a rose clenched in her teeth
as we stride cheek to cheek,
heedless of manila folders
bulging with briefs.

Chins raised high,
one arm around each other,
the other thrust out,
hands clasped
in a battering ram
of dance.

High marching steps
past the water cooler
beside magazines stacked
on the low glass table.

Clients wait,
look discreetly away
or glare and tap
at their watch crystals
during our dangerous dips.

A tango waits
for noone,
tells by its own time
the coordinating schedules
of two arranged alphabetically
in the spun rolodex
of love.

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2 thoughts on “Literalists in the Office

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