You Across The Table
A poem about love and amnesia

I am hoping you can meet my eyes, When it’s been ten years and you and I, Have grown so close we are now strangers.
Like when you focus on an object, And see it slowly fade, Become blurry and hazy, Lose its shape and its edges, Until the word you so confidently, Once used to describe it, Becomes a meaningless sound.
I hope you can still find my gaze, When I’ve lost my edges and I’ve blended, With the blurry ballerinas, In that dusty Degas replica, Looming over our kitschy table for two. Speaking without listening, Just to coat our silence with white noise, In a dimly lit Diner on amnesia avenue.
