The Importance of Balance

The first time I meet you after the love has gone
is at a restaurant of your choice.

Noisy, buzzing and fills up
the prolonged vacuum between us.

For once you look happy, rising
up to give me a buddy slap

but the camaraderie ends
when we settle in our seats.

Your replies are weighed,
like a tightrope walker careful

on a slack wire and knows
there are no safety nets below,

only the post-mortem anger below of
similar dinners to remind you the

importance of balance. Did you also predict
this politeness maturing to boredom too quickly?

We take the drinks outside, naïve
that dynamics would do some good.

The night is warm and heavy with our history
dampening the air like humidity.

We are not talking, only attempting to.
I have been wondering for an hour

if something would have changed.
This dinner is my answer.

It represents us, cold,
even before this table was laid

and I am relieved to know the wait is now over.