The table shines

Sunlight slants across the window

Heat glimmers up from the sidewalk bright, so bright it hurts.   She touches the table and grips the edges in a bid to hang on to the present even as the present fades to foggy remembered moving so deep and moving so strong

 the past shines as bright with a knowing of the truth that her lover’s mouth, her cocoa mouth that gleamed as bright as the sunlight with dimples creasing her smile that tasted just like salt and smoky sweet a feast of earthy delight whipping the white sheets in a tangle of twirls and laughter and moans

That the husband never knows

And the church never knows

And nobody will ever know the tenuous grip it takes to hold the table and the real when the real is in a dream, a fevered dream