We stopped at some café
just outside Paris
the coach parked
along side the road

our first meal
since getting on
the ferry across over
I still had

that Beethoven
piano piece
in my head
and Miriam

laying her head
on my shoulder
in sleep
her red hair

like an explosion
of redness
her eyes closed
her mouth ajar

small white teeth
shallow breathing
small cleavage
what are you having?

Miriam asked
I looked at the menu
in French
you speak French?

I asked
not much
apart what I learnt
at school

she said
she scanned the menu
I think that's beef burger
she said

pointing at the list
that's egg and something
and curry?
I asked

don't know French
for curry
she said
she raised her hand

Garçon!
she said
a thin guy
came across

with a droopy moustache
and looked at us
you do curry?
she asked

the guy gave
a blank gaze
she fanned her mouth
with her small hand

and lifted her eyes
towards the ceiling
and blew outward
curry

she mouthed
the guy looked at me
sympathetically
I poked a finger

at the list randomly
and the guy
looked intently
I showed 2 fingers

and pointed
to Miriam and me
he smiled
and went off

what did you order?
she said
looking at me
then the menu

God knows
but at least
we'll eat
I said

she shook her head
and stared back
towards the bar  
how about a beer?

she said sure
I said
and as we waited
I felt her hand

on my knee
making
circular motions
and giving

the occasional squeeze  
and I hoped
she'd do the same
to both knees.