Transactions and Translations

Transactions and Translations

Disassembled vehicles
surround me like carcasses.
Scent of used oil,
dim air thick with fatigue.

You are untamed and simmering,
glad for the workbench between us.
Dust catches afternoon light.
Nothing in common but this exchange.

Holding your phone to my mouth,
I speak my language without emotion.
A voice speaks back in yours
with mechanical brevity.

Your eyes narrow,
waiting for my decision.
A transaction freshly agreed
hanging in the humidity.

A slight nod between us
and you open a rusty toolbox.
Under heavy silver wrenches,
a pile of cash.

Hands wiped on your blue pants,
leaving dark half-moons.
Counting in slow motion,
each bill placed as a statement.

You expect me to count twice.
When I refuse,
your shoulders relax.
Maybe I am fair.

A motion from your hand
to tell me we are settled.
I will never see you again.
Walking towards the light,
I taste metal in my mouth.

42/100
-nl