All That Noise Around It

The birthday was good by every count.

Candles. Someone's good laugh.

The bar loud enough that the sound

pressed against the back of the throat.

I was at the far end of the table.

The usual arrangement.

I watched a mouth move across from me

for ten, fifteen minutes —

nothing arriving,

just the shape of someone

being pleased about something.

I kept picking up the drink.

Not for the drink.

Just to have a reason for my hands.

The ice had gone to water by nine.

The coaster wet through.

I put the glass down

and watched the ring it left,

the way it spread and held its shape.

At some point I was laughing.

I know because my face was doing it.

Someone turned to me and I turned back

and we were completely fine.

I got home and sat in the car

in the driveway for a while.

Not sad exactly.

More like: aware of something

I couldn't have named in there

with all that noise around it.