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