A Man Is Watching Me Eat

A man is watching me eat.

It is my fault really.

I was taking the first bite

of a tiny, overpriced slice

of Sicilian lemon cheesecake

when he suddenly emerged

from behind the dividing wall

looking like a guy I thought I used to know

and so I glanced up to his eyes

to check if he was/wasn’t who I thought

and eye contact was accidentally maintained

(the fatal mistake!)

at the moment when I

was dragging the fork from my mouth

my little kitten tongue

licking up a crumb

that dared to misbehave

and oh no, he held his gaze for too long!

and even though I quickly looked away

it is now my job to entertain

because how else can I get a man like him to love a girl like me?

I have bitten the inside of my mouth to shreds

because I have been angry / nervous / restless / sober / worried / hungry

and the lemon curd stings the lesions in my cheeks

but oh my god, this cream is so sweet

just like me, just like me

and he keeps watching me

watching me eat

while my brain tallies calories

and my belly feels sickly

but I have to act up

for the man who is now shuffling in his seat

I lick my fingers clean

and uh oh! biscuit in my cleavage!

This base is soooo crumbly and I am soooo clumsy

and he’s enjoying the scene

adjusting the crotch of his jeans

he’s not even pretending to read China Dream!

he’s watching the lone female


eating something

something sweet

just like she

she is so sweet

look at her eat

anyone can watch because looking is free!

but I can also be

horribly bitter

like lemon in lesions in cheeks

but the man makes this discovery

a little too late

when I launch the fork at him

and it hits his shoulder

and he says ‘What the fuck?!’

and now he has my bittersweet mess all over him

just not in the way that he wanted.


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