The Cellar - Poetry

Odd_Bloke put up some poetry, so I thought I'd put some out here for you'uns to read. (I'm British too. Must be the Americanization or something....)

Emerald

I was sitting at the corner window booth,
My butt deeply imprinted into the vinyl
When she walked in.
The first thing I noticed was
Her eyes.
They were green, an emerald green,
And they were tired.
She glanced around, taking us all in:
Johnny and Becki, over in the far corner,
Sitting next to each other, talking quietly,
Unaware of anyone save themselves;
Old Lucius, at the bar, his coal-colored skin
Weathered and worn, hunched over his cold cup
Of coffee spiked with a vanilla flavored packet of caffeine;
Marty, the bartender, wiping the lone cognac glass in the place
Endlessly, wondering if perhaps he would finally fill it.

Her eyes swept over me and I thought
She might say something, for she seemed to hesitate,
But then she sat at a table for two, midway
Between me and Johnny and Becki's booth along the wall.
Marty grimaced, put his sparkling glass on the hanging rack,
And went into the back.
He returned with Tricia, wiping her hands on the pristine white
Towel at her plump waist.
Emerald ordered a red wine
And Marty sighed, looking at the snifter
As he retrieved the slender wine glass, filling it with the
Blood red liquid.
Not today.

Tricia brought Emerald the wine, glaring at Marty.
Lucius cackled loudly and Emerald startled.
I finished my coffee and stacked the empty creamer
Containers next to the little tan puddle beneath my spoon.
She finished her Merlot and we met
At the cash register. I paid with a dollar bill.
Emerald paid with a hundred.
She caught me looking at Franklin
And drew back a little.
I smiled reassuringly and left, the bell
Tinkling against the door, announcing my departure into the sunshine.
She caught my arm outside, her hand warm and light.
I turned and felt her full ruby lips on my startled ones.
She tasted like fruit.
Then she was gone, leaving me wide eyed on the sidewalk,
Holding my throbbing mouth as if to keep the taste of her in,
One hand supplicating empty air.

edit: changed Chablis for Merlot