Lawyer

Today, I walked up to her desk.
It was messy, unlike her
brisk appearance
that wears the shades of the rainbow
with a casual finality.

There were books,
predictably pertaining to the laws
unruly, unlike her
hair that falls neatly
to her sides.

A hygiene product sat whispering
to the laptop cooler
all black, unlike her
words that smother you with their certainty
and playfully warn you to stay out of trouble.

Probably,
I will talk to her before I go.


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Note: This poem was published in Algebra of Owls on July 22, 2016.