A mismatch sits windowside
across from us.
the man's agony, unspoken, Rests
inside the clasp of his hands.
Rude position
in the public, pink
place.
but
No rules for this.
she (mirroring) orders -
but silent toward his
Crumpled posture:
elephantine.
Waiter not waiting,
-they wait not moving.
he at table, she at him
exchanging blinks, both.
she looks windowside
they wait.
Waiter, who is quick (relatively)
brings her food (brings the catalyst)
He pulls up his head,
unclasps his hands
hews the agony
in quiet speech.
Her terse flights
of lip
ply themselves between
the onerous drapes
crumpling his shoulders.
inert:
his mussed hair
her tired eyes.
her eyes, splashy
vibrato ribbons
Leave the scene
(momentarily)
He, alone with advantage,
feeds from her requests -
and he's quick
to put things
as they were
until she comes back.
Then they'll be otherwise,
because his voice defines Now,
hers does not.
