Supper
It is myself and I again
in this dark room
while I sit across the long tablefrom my alter ego
And she asks me to pass the rolls
so I pass them
and then pour the wine.
And we sit, silent,
and she bores herself into my eyes
while I busy myself with the peas.
I look away
and she looks away
and we both long for some dinner music
to break the silence
of our hostility.
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