lovers?

it's too warm

for this food, this stew.
this hot

bowl.

I look out across the patio
and push

away from the table.
I finish my drink

and look at my phone.
I put the phone down
and mumble

something to myself, a curse
best
not said out loud.

I see a young woman and her
boyfriend, husband?

at a table, holding hands
staring into one another's eyes.

there's a flower beside her.

it could be love, or like,
or lust, who's to know
these days,

but I prefer to think that they
love
each other
and will be
together until the end time.

I love fairy tales like that.

I leave and go on my way.