table for four

breakfast table looks a lot like
three different types of newspaper publications,
and a lot of plates.
six chairs gathered around a marble table,
that’s always too cold to touch.

four chairs filled with seven plates,
almost as if we try to disguise our emptiness,
with the overcompensation of cutlery.

we don’t eat too much these days,
but there is more conversation,
maybe to make up for the lack of it,
for so long.

there is some laughter too,
loud music on a low volume.

when phones ring, we excuse ourselves
from a conversation that isn’t without us.

there are seven doorbells
on an average,
shuffling around of keys,
and the retelling of the day’s stories.

if our breakfast table were a letter,
it’d be so full yet so empty.

seven different sides in blue ink
and four empty pages,
almost as if we were leaving behind space
for those who left us behind.

and like clockwork,
each of the chairs empty themselves,
more plates, more glasses, more cutlery,
less words, less laughter, less chatter.
and we all walk away.

four chairs empty with the other two now,
all of them alone, yet together,
as the lights switch off and all sounds drift away,
till another meal, till another day.

//table for four.

emmess

16/12/18