I look at you as you look at her. From across the table she's every bit your dream--her long silken hair glowing with the light abovehead, her eyes twinkling in laughter. I see you become disarmed as she smiles at the jokes she's being told. You have been so keen to her whims--a platter of onion rings, an extra fork, a glass of water (without ice, please). She's having fun listening to the others' stories amid the convivial cacophony, and you, the usual bard of the group, contently sits in silence watching her. Once, in the same place, you sat beside me while everybody else was on the floor singing and dancing the night away. Out of the blue and as if I needed telling, you muttered, "I really really like her," your eyes focused on one single person, unobstructed by the dizzying colored lights and the haze from cigarette smoke. And sitting beside you again this time, I wonder why all I could do is look at you as you look at her.
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Experimenting, I guess? Haha.
