Purple Stain

June
It was the end of your second date
Everything was going well
You were walking to the train station
Imagining a parting kiss by the turnstiles
His fingers tracing patterns on your spine

But as you passed beneath a streetlight
He suddenly stopped
A look of horror flashed over his face
He pulled away
And never returned your calls

Months later
You remembered something
At the end of a wild night
On the roof of a hotel
You shared a taxi with a man that you didn't know
And would never see again

He had a purple stain on his forehead
It smelled like beets and vinegar
He'd gotten used to it
He didn't know it was there
He couldn't understand why you leaned away
And pressed yourself against the window