She sits there,

Shuffling the napkin

Between bony fingers.

Her eyes don’t see

His sturdy fingers tapping

On the oak table

Across from her,

But the sound

Penetrates her ears.

She turns toward the waitress

Holding the coffee pot,

Says, “Pour me more.”

Caffeine is all

That keeps her going.

As she brings the cup

To unsatisfied lips,

Her bloodshot eyes gaze up

From the plate

Of half-eaten food.

The darkness persists in them

As she glares

At him.

He looks up from his hands,

Focuses on the bags,

Dark circles making their home

Under her eyes.

“You oughta get some sleep.”

The dry words escape

From his mouth.

She slams the cup down,

Breaks the saucer.

“Whatever.”

A mutter.

Turning away

From his tormenting face,

She calls the waitress.

“Just give me the check

And a coffee to go.”

11/13/02