Saturday, February 13, 2010


I sit at the table
the house blush slipping past my lips
not as good as I remember
I should have tried a pinot grigio
tines pierce the plump shrimp
and I slide risotto beside it
lifting the morsel to my mouth
each bite feels like a performance
though no one sits across
eyes press on my skin
gazes slide past
not quite landing
that would be rude
yet even with their weight
I savor
. . indulge
order tiramisu for dessert
custard silky smooth
dissolving on my tongue
as a girl walks by
maybe fourteen
wide green irises
slash of pink lips she offers
"Have a good night."
I smile. .
no comment from her party
adults far too polite
to bring attention
this table for one