Ode To A Table for One

She prepped herself in the ladies’ room
For the lover who would never come.
She brushed out the doubt
And straightened her nerves
Only to return
To an empty table.
Empty but for the slim vase of crimson comfort
Meant to be shared
By two who are paired
But not tonight
Not tonight, nor any night.
‘What’s this?’
‘It’s hummus.’
‘Oh.’
Forlorn, forsaken, foreboding
Alone, shaken, and lonely
Blank stare,
Grey hair,
Senseless.
And I sip my wine.
And she sips hers.
Here’s to a table for one.