6.10.2023 - Notified

6.10.2023
Notified

In the glow of my palms, I watch you replying,
The seashell hammering of my heart in my chest.
Have I chanced on a method to hold fast your attention?
My bird-fast breaths cloud the edge of my glasses.
I try to still my darting gaze on the table.
These strangers around me continue their chatter,
They order their coffee and check their phones.
I know they aren't watching me,
Oblivious to the small drama playing out in their midst.
I feel the hot blush staining my cheeks and my temples.
My eyes feel like burning coals with the intensity of my gaze.
Three gray dots continue marching away with bright promise,
I wait in agony to see what you'll say.
I want to do something bold and witty to dazzle you.
I want to dance through the cafe or sway in my seat,
But I master myself with hard words to endure this.
To sit, quiet and calm.
To just wait and see,
But the dots keep pending with no further answer.
Anxiety mounting and wringing my mouth dry,
I wave off the waiter who asks if I want more water.
I'm far too invested to notice his arched eyes,
But I log it absently like I do all such pauses.
I tally up each faux pas and stumble throughout my day.
Later in bed, I'll lie wide-eyed in darkness,
As I replay each moment, each transgression,
But for now, my mask tightens.
My teeth grind and my eyes prickle.
I force my tense fingers to relax and be still,
Turn my phone face down before me.
I wait anxious and slightly lightheaded,
But try to look casual as I sip at my melting ice.
A soft chime notifies me,
My questions may be answered.
I want to look at the message.
I stare at nothing and continue drinking an empty glass.
I freeze inside the perfect glassine moment,
Fractured snow globe endlessly inverting.
Soon I'll look and weigh out the rest of my day.
For now, I relish the possibility,
The future is still out there,
Waiting unobserved to savor its taste.
I open the messenger,
And stare at the tiny peach emoji,
That took you seven minutes to decide to send.
I hate the internet.