Becoming

I had lunch today
with a girl named Sera.
She smoked five cigarettes,
lighting the next with the last,
and ate smashed potatoes
as she told me all about her
life.  I wasn't really listening, cos
she smelled like lemons or Asia or something,
and I couldn't place the blinding green scent.
I kept thinking about how,
until then, she had set up
for herself a nice life
in my dreams. 
Until then, when she glided
through glass double doors
at 12:03 p.m. on a cold
day in January and
had lunch with me.
So she was a real person,
not just some pretty waitress.