veggie plate

she was
down to eating
lettuce,
carrots,
beets and bell
peppers.
no meat
or pasta touched
her quivering
lips.
she was as white
and thin
as typing
paper. it
became hard to
go out to a
restaurant with
her.
there was little
on the menu
that she wanted.
sometimes she'd
ask me if she
could just smell
the meat
on my sandwich
lifting up
the bun with delicate
fingers
and leaning her
head down
with closed eyes
to inhale the aroma
of charred beef.
sometimes she'd faint
and fall
into her plate
of washed lettuce
leaves, or
water chestnuts.
after she'd awakenen
you helped her
to her car, if she
could remember
where she put it.