Dinner For Two

by nourayasmine   Mar 31, 2022

Our dinner table has deep dishes
brimmed with poison and words and
dreams that scrabble at the sky
and fall down like cheap glass and
snap and crush.

I crushed last night.
In the mirror, my body had
no lines, no figure.
I tried to say that exhaustion
got me, but my voice retracted
back to my lungs and my skin
as the furniture behind me.

I was nothing for a moment.
Nothing but shreds of self-doubt that
strain and pull together,
throughout the pilfered days, as
smoke paints the backyard,
the porch, the roof, the stairs to
our room, the anniversaries
and the first kiss.

I’m full.


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