We were a casual thing –
Light touch, sunshine-fleet,
Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it.
You said it was for the best.
I agreed. It’s in my nature –
Once a waiter, always a
Waiter, deference like a
Reflex, asking, never telling.
You ordered white bread for the table,
Sparkling water with a wedge of lemon,
Scanned the specials board
But stuck to the hunter’s chicken.
I couldn’t help but crave
Something slower,
Time to savour,
Rich flavours given their own space.
My mouth watered for
Mezze, citrus and pomegranate,
High notes combined with the
Dusk of game meat.
At night, I’d dream
The squeal of tires,
Awake singing Big Yellow Taxi
As I started circling in attendance.
Full, but echoing, missing nutrition,
I listened and nodded,
Wishing and waiting
For something other than snacks.
The day I realised
The menu held more options
Was otherwise ordinary
But a stranger’s smile ignited revolution.
Living in the endless expectation
Of your say-so,
Alert to your every message,
Was never fun, but unjust punishment.
I will seek out gastronomic
Experiences, fast and slow alike,
Put in my requests with a smile
Dial my own whims in my own time.
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