she pushes her food around
on her plate,
carrots
and peas, broiled fish
of some kind. she
fiddles
with a piece of bread,
taps her
knife, her fork,
against the edge
of her plate.
she looks away
with something on her
mind.
I keep eating,
i'm hungry
and fear where this
might be going.
I squeeze
into my vodka tonic,
the dark green
wedge of lime.
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