Vanity

He was the type of guy
who knew how handsome he was,
and acted like it.
Self-satisfied smirk on a chiseled jaw,
dismissive side-glance from ocean-blue eyes.
He oozed false charm like syrup,
and made the room feel sticky.
Scratching the careful stubble on his chin,
he surveyed his arena.
One girl caught his eye and smiled warmly,
he chuckled, and kept searching.
Paused, swooping down
on a lovely brunette in the corner.
He asked what she was working on
and listened for a moment,
before spinning the world back to its orbit
and revealing his archive of achievements.
And perhaps he was honest,
in word, if not manner.
When she left, he took a moment
then slipped across the room,
striking up the same conversation
with a different girl,
who had not seen the first.
And the girl who smiled stood,
chuckled in her own turn,
and threw away the trash he left behind
for someone lesser to clean,
as the second target stood
and said goodbye.

– s. Clark