Fridge

Faced her green blouse and dangling earrings,
wondering if she'd let me in--
previously others had directed me to a piece
hanging on the wall--
a box with three skinned women inside,
some wire.

Black shoulders, shoulder-to-shoulder,
turned away from the art,
turned away from me,
not letting me into
the conversations, wine, and cheese.

Mirrors and frames,
dominoes and monarchs,
inflated tags, spinning candles
made me finally snicker--

walk back to the parking lot
amid the snow
and fallen glances.