He Says

He says my name.

As a humble cashier,

I've oft known the irks

of manipulative customers

taking advantage of name tags. 

I've come to detest 

the sound of my name

from their lips.

But he says my name.

I don't mind it from family,

but it won't give me chills...

Not hardly.

Besides, they rarely use it.

They can simply gesture; 

it's implied...

They know me well.

Yet... He says my name.

I noticed, because,

the first time he used it,

it wasn't a necessary component

of his very precise 

sentence structure.

The sound ran through me

like pop rocks.

He says my name.

It still gives me

happy feelings

every time.

I've no idea why this simple thing 

has such power...

But it does, and I love it.

He says my name.