Dinner Date

I am watching my dreams

Dance in the flame of the candle.

I do not see you drink from your wine glass

Nor the flame-colored luminescence of your pearls.

This vast room is shrinking,

Collapsing upon a word.

My dreams are taking shape now.

“You are there with me, I promise,”

I do not say.

The ticking clock is a lash against my conscience.

Dreams fade.

No words, no breath, no speaking,

The dancing of the flame.

“Are you aware of the silence, my love?”
I do not say.

A violin weeps gently through the window,

And yet, silence still predominates.

“Do you hear the music, my love?”

I do not say.

Something in her eyes now,

A sly understanding,

Not knowing, but content not to know.

The flame flutters and sways.

The violin plays yesterday’s passion.

“Something must change,”

I do say.