We sit across the table from each other.
A white tablecloth between us,
red roses in a vase in the center.
The glow from the crystal chandelier above
bounces off of your smile.

And you look to your right and you see her…

You look at her like she is rain in the desert,
like she is fluffy white clouds on a scorching hot day,
she, a fiddle and you a musician.
You look at her...
and I look at you.

And me?
I am the bottle smashed on the pavement,
pieces of broken glass everywhere
contents once inside now splattered around the sidewalk.
I am the summer storm no one asked for.
I am the blank pages of a notebook you've had for years,
I hope that one day you will flip through and see that I am there,
But I just sit in a drawer until then.

I made a list last night
with the pages you forgot about,
of everything you have ever said that made me smile.
Memories not documented in your head.

Instead you see the memory of
all of our friends sitting around the white table cloth
red roses between us.
You hold her hand on top of the table
and then stare at her from one knee,
diamond in hand
Your eyes so bright it could replace the chandelier

I stare at you with a smile,
my nails dig into the chair below me.
Your best friend sits beside me
and grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.
I feel my eyes start to form a tear
he sees and kisses my cheek

wiping away the wet on my face so you can't see