Lovers

we sit across from eachother, plates Full of things to consume. In company of silence we look down at our plates and back up to each others irises. the kind of intimacy that makes humans seem so fragile. our food served for us and our mouths drooling with fragility. shoveling the items into us at emense speed, saving no time for idle chat. We connect through glances but it seems to be enough. But while you're filling yourself to the brim I'm taking note of the creases that form in corners of your mouth as it opens and closes like a trap. the way your eyes dart from chicken tenders to pork rib to sailted prawn, as my mind thinks about the life those beings had before now. My mind wanders further and further away from our glances, food intake and silences and fill myself with the after life. The piece of chicken that's hurdling its way down your gullet, will it go to heaven or hell. A joke that leaves my mind as quickly as it came. Still, I ponder where that chicken spent it's living days and maybe if it's life was worth leaning up to a death like this. "I hope that my death makes my life worth while" I think to myself.