Maurice has a hernia.
He lifts te many layers of his sweatshirts to show me.
"That looks painful" I grimace
"It don't hurt. If it don't go away in Febyooary, they gonna take care of it in March."
We talk about the dangers of surgical mesh ; I decide not to tell him how it slowly murdered my mother over 24 years.
He asks me if I'm married. I decide not to tell him I'm a widow.
As I'm getting up from the bus bench to leave, he asks me for a hug. There are giant, gloppy tears falling from his right eye.
I hug him twice per his request.
He asks if he can squeeze my ass.
He asks me if I'll be his friend.
But he wants more from me than I have to give
Even to myself.
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