You across the table tonight, features blurred by the light of the candle, disappointment softened by wine, and me trying to remember that feeling of home we once had, trying to find a way back to when we made sense, you and I. The chill on the bottle of white warms, the oysters recede, sweaty and limp, into their shells, and all that comes to mind is that, as much as we may intend it or want it or reach for it, we can’t seem to do anything right by each other, you and I. And dinner is ruined...

You across the table tonight, features blurred by the light of the candle, disappointment softened by wine, and me trying to remember that feeling of home we once had, trying to find a way back to when we made sense, you and I. The chill on the bottle of white warms, the oysters recede, sweaty and limp, into their shells, and all that comes to mind is that, as much as we may intend it or want it or reach for it, we can’t seem to do anything right by each other, you and I. And dinner is ruined...