scratch that itch

the girl in the corner

with long dark hair

bats tired eyelashes,

flecks mascara
in her eye.

she turns to the window

and blinks -- long and slow

like she'll open her eyes

and be somewhere new.

but when she turns back, 
he's staring directly

at the spot on her chin
she had tried to forget.
just a wasp sting,

she says,

hunching her shoulders,

when the slow itch sets in

and she begins to twitch.
he leans, she twitches

he speaks, she itches

he touches her knee

and she can't help but scratch,

the bump on her chin

pinker and warmer

with every angry
demanding touch.

he grabs her hand and

holds it still,

and kisses her there

in front of god

and everybody.

and as soon as he's done

she pauses

and then
leans in,
rubs her chin

in the thick

of his beard.

***
Thanks for the inspiration, L.T.  Who knew your wasp sting would bring us so much insight? ;o)