In the restaurant
they greet you
“How many tonight?”
they ask
We tell them, “Just
two,”
“Follow me...” go
about their task
We sit at a table
for two
and the highlights
of sunset
flood through the
window view
we peruse the menu
at last
soup du
jour and a salad me oui
fine dining as it’s
been in the past
and now the waiter
slips, you see
a clatter and
shatter of dishes
everyone stops and
gasps in breath
embarrassed, the
waiter wishes
to have it all swept
up, what’s left
back to our meal,
it’s tasty, dessert?
of course! you silly
flirt
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