the dinner

it's a fine
meal she brings
to the table.
my mouth waters
before i even
see it. i can
smell it from
here. hear the
clinking of silver
ware and glasses,
her heels,
clicking against
the kitchen floor,
it takes two
hands for her
to carry it all
in. she doesn't
want any help,
she wants to show
you what love
is, not say it.