Let’s not pretend it was something it really wasn’t.
It wasn’t old friends catching up,
new friends getting to know each other, not a new couple, not an old couple,
It was lunch
with someone you don’t know very well. Being a person
with someone who has no reason to believe that you are one. It was cold
at the windows, and doors, in my feet, my ears, my earrings. It was food
you could eat, hopefully, without tripping up around company,
not mixing earl grey and cranberry juice like usual,
because most people think that’s weird.
Letting yourself be a person
with someone who can’t know that you are one, but believes it anyway.
Talking about beer festivals, attending beer festivals later,
porn ethics, and choosing to watch, or not watch porn later,
bananas and condoms in Catholic school,
and no one can do a damn thing about it.
Bring up the news. Feel sad about it. Don’t
feel sad about it. Don’t apologise for what you’re saying,
even if it’s stupid
and have people take you seriously anyway.
Talk about the pending weekend,
tearing through real conversations, vaporising, pizza soda diets,
snow drives, father’s birthday, and dirty laundry,
that will stay dirty, till Monday, at least.
Help yourself to a buffet, get served from a buffet,
pick food to suit your mood, and then change your mind,
and get new food.
See your people, and find yourself not needing or wanting to join them,
and not explaining yourself to them, because why should you.
Let’s go on a lunch date.
If it works out, we can steal some cookies