We ordered them with bacon and the guy put them on the table.
You gave me a quizzical smile.
I’d had two cravings that week:
Cheese fries and blowjobs.
You didn’t recognise it,
My smile, or my kiss,
It waved at you but you didn’t see them from across the street.
You ate your food,
I ate the cheese fries.
The bacon trimmings were pathetic.
Our wedding will need more nachos and more Finding Nemo on repeat.
And I happen to think Love Actually is a really wonderful and shit film,
And that the lines in our palms pressed together,
Could map the underground lines of Paris.
I think we could’ve slept together on 20 occasions this week
But we didn’t because I have to muster some self-respect together,
As though I were scooping up all the blood you’ve battered out of my head,
From rejection, of course,
With 20,000 kitchen towels and red smears all over my kitchen floor.
You come to share my cheese fries
And I’m sharing your skin,
We’re sharing the same organs,
You swallow, and I breathe.
I wanted you more than the cheese fries,
But either way, I’d still end up with an empty bowl.
And I don’t mind that.
We paid the order.
We went home, and again I said goodbye.