They stare at each other concentratedly
and intensely. They might be having sex
if only their faces were visible.
They are at war, in small, over the costs
of last night's supper: Who paid for whom?
Each is thinking of hitting its lover.
She's just cross; but he's becoming nervous
and shuffles his big arse on the chair loudly,
farting as he does so. It makes her laugh.
Each sees the other as ridiculous
and he laughs back, avoiding humility.
Later, much later, they'll undisagree.
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