BREAKFAST II

The tension at this table

could not be crushed

by a brick flying through it

escaping my hand

heading to you

and your head

ripe watermelon ready

smugly gnawing at your coffee cake

your fruit tart

your orange.

I say nothing

but I could kill you in second

the way you sit there

ignoring my pain

my pleasure

my very existence.

You should look at me.

You should fucking look at me

as I wait

across this Formica divide

wondering

if you'll ever deign to notice me.

You think

nothing need be said

nothing that can't be forgotten

put aside

placed on the top shelf

of the hidden closet.

You think this tension will go away

that I will go away

and maybe I will

but not yet.

Not today.

Today, I face you

across this stretched table

as your refuse grows about you

and I wait

ever longer

for you to finally face me.

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