even and cross-legged,
taking in the aroma
Red plaid tablecloth
beige folded napkins
etiquette is seldom self-taught
Your mind is a fickle dam
I tell you to keep it all to yourself,
and you explode
Look at yourself
Can you change?
You give me a mirror, and a ghastly wretch stares back
Can I change?
You get up from your seat
You quit, bathing me in tense silence
I get up from my seat
I quit, leaving the table to itself
We both know that the morning is too early for fighting.