At The Table

And You Know What I Was Saying

I remember the look in your eyes.

The one that told me you couldn't hear me.

You wouldn't hear me.

Or you did,

and you were choosing to ignore it.

Because I remember mine.

I remember the way I looked at you.

Pleading.

Please.

Listen.

Hear me.

But you didn't.

It's a funny memory when I visit it.

Sitting at the table.

We should have a movie night.

Can we sleep in the ba…