Sunday, 17 July 2011
Point blank we stare into each other’s eyes with our wits end on our table, we mumble under our breaths with the hope that one of our suggestions to leave this place is taken heed of.
Once the sweet taste of conversation that has fruit has touched our lips, we indulge in one another's presence, but that is only with what I greatly emphasize, that it is only with mind bearing fruit in conversation that will keep us at this table of thought. Way across the room you and I sit from each other but the ebb of our thoughts has put us together at one table at the light of our eyes connecting in the brief moment we took looking away from our lavish dishes to call the same waiter. The confusion lay only with the thoughts we had of such an encounter not being possible in both our lives at the same time in the same place forgetting that we are now of the same space. We find that the debate within ourselves has escalated to the smiles we now have on our faces as my arm now drowns in the shallows of my table. With the courage I momentarily conjured to raise my hand to summon my next dose of coffee I nod to find your approval in the gesture I have just extended for you to call him first.
What is it that we have found so interesting in each other’s stares that has us now stealing a minor glance at the other every now and then? My hopes are only that you do not walk out without a word because of the many you have helped me express to my expression which had lost all hope of wonder in words. My imagination grows more active as I hurry to finish my sentences in this soliloquy that has me gripped in the translation of a stare that ends in mid-air thus the transmission of thoughts between us two is lost to the waitresses that giggle consumed in the “game” they think we play with our eyes. The back and forth movement of our heads that shows our burning anxiety to verbalize our thoughts is quite the entertainment to them that do not feel the burn of words wanting a way out. Weary cups of coffee signal the retreat valor as another is ordered to prolong my stay in my perfectly bum measured seat to keep on looking across the room.
As I sit here in question of what to do I find that the source himself, patience, has paid me a visit. Alongside my persisting ego they try find a solution to my self-inflicted endeavor to be heard- yes, but just a word would be my comfort at this present time- not to be seen. The solution lies at the door for whoever walks out first, for the one that follows is the victim of circumstance to the meeting that happened without word.