somewhere we're at the dinner table together



and the scene pans in on your arm stretched
across the dishes, the noise fades in but you are
not lost in the chatter, the camera assumes position
of an all-seeing eye, except it is both you and me and
everyone, the drifting lens lands on my fingers, my shoulder
the bottom of my chin, I'm all a blurred face in the dim party
lights, hair awash with the leaves and the plastic clatter of plates
but you focus in and so do I, because it's me and you and everyone



somewhere we sit together at a dinner table.