Splash

Sit there across from me and share this plate of baba ghanoush.  Let me eat all of the tomato, I don't eat bread.  It's so vivid but I don't understand why you appear.  It's a brighter memory than I wish for.  The light streams in from the over sized retail window splashing up from the laminate wood table top.  Before i knew it was us I only saw the plastic silverware and paper napkin so politely folded.  There is no point to this reminder except for driving me further into this lavish self disapproval.  We don't exist as in this memory.  Let me throw this rock into the ocean; I don't even require a splash.