A Penny for Your Thoughts

"A penny for your thoughts,"
He said, leaning into that
Intimate space across the table.

"I--" she started, thinking
This one really expected
Her intelligent response.

"What I meant," he corrected,
Looking her in the eye,
"Is I want to purchase your thoughts."

"Whaaat?" She countered,
Confused by his icy stare
(Had she misread him after all?)

"I want to buy your thoughts,"
He said again, nonchalantly,
"All of them."

"All of them?" she repeated,
Attempting to process this
Turn of table event.

"Yes, of course, all of them,"
He said, "For a penny."
As if that were more than enough.

"I don't know who you think you are,
Or what right you have to ask,
But there is no way in hell--"

"Look," he said, put out with her
Objection, "I'm paying more than
The asking price for them all.

"What need have you of them?"
He pushed an envelope forward.
"Here, two pennies then.

"You really can't do better than that,"
He said. "I've heard enough of yours
To know there'd be no market."

She stared at the envelope;
Wondering when the price
Of a person's thought was so--

"I will not sell out." She said.
"You will," He countered,
"To me or someone else

"Only they may not pay
Such a high price
For your meager thoughts."

"You cannot buy my thoughts,"
She said. "You cannot have them."
And she slid the envelope forward.

"Fine," he said, standing up.
"Your loss, my dear."
He threw a bill on the table.

She stared at his retreating form,
Tore into the abandoned envelope
And gripped tightly two dull pennies.