Thank you, my dearest,
For the crowded restaurant lines
Of our second Valentines day,
Fake roses taped against
Ten-cent candy bars and
The spider crawl of the
Dark-skinned waitress wearing heels
(in a weird way, she was exotic),
the crying children at table ten and
thick food that tickled my chin.
The bathroom break of chipped-paint walls,
Muffled calls of the crowded exterior,
From the lone trail of tissue paper to
The sauce stains across
The polyester of my pink shirt,
And most of all the precise mix
Of chocolate and gelato
In Tiramisu that saturated my taste budsSo that for a moment I was Italian.
Written for a prompt at dVerse Poets.