Child's Game

What should we do next?

Staring at you
        across the dining room table, the food, the wine,
        across the awkward silence that sits heavy between us.

Your eyes stare at your plate.

But I want you to look at me.
        This side of the table is cold -- only me
        and a half-eaten steak that tastes like metal.

I giggle because
I know what to do next.

I take a sharp inhale and hold it --
        a contest has begun and only you
        can make it end.

Finally you look at me.

Your breath stays moving.
        I can see the up and down of your chest,
        your shoulders, your mouth as you chew.

It's a child's game and
I know it.

But this will give us something to do.
        Or rather, this will get a reaction from you,
        as my skin turns red and blue and dark.

I resist the urge to breathe.
        You keep chewing, chewing, chewing
        our eyes unblinking.

And when you swallow the bleeding meat, I faint.
You won.

                                             tessa juliane