WAITRESS
She approaches his table,
wearing an immaculate white apron
over a taught black dress
Bends over,
setting the plate down,
her lips, within inches of his ear,
Softly whispers, “Enjoy!”
Turns back, apron tied
smartly in a virtuous bow
against proud hips
He bites into multi-grain bread,
savoring the gift
she left behind.
“Enjoy!” still hangs in the air
The scent of her breath hovers over
his table, he lifts the glass of cool water,
takes a sip, and is done.
She returns with a pen protruding from
the hollow of her pocket, removes the plate,
leaving the table bare.
“Will there be anything else?”
Looking deep into
her subservient eyes,
now it is his turn to whisper,
“Just the check, please.”
— © Abraham Menashe