Appetites

You wore a silky cashmere sweater
and I ate swordfish with fries
you were hard on the heels of my failures
while I played the end of your jigsaw
fretting quietly over lost pieces

Two balloon bubbles
sat staring from a cartoon page
starved of all those unwritten lines
the ones we would never write
now too much time had made us slaves
bound up together
by our own awkward ways
 
You realised I would always hunger
for the taste of oceans
and I knew the child you never bore
held no fear
one more meaningless sin
to chew then swallow
through our lunch of missing years
 
So when dessert arrived
we both understood
it was much too late
yes, rather too late
to ever ask
for anything less delicious
than our pasts