The Plate

I sometimes wonder what possessed me

When I took that plate

And licked it clean

In front of you

Sat there

Legs crossed

In my dungarees

I don’t do that

I haven’t, before or since

I may have trailed a finger across a plate

To savour the remnants of a dish

But this was my mother’s chilli

It was nice

It was probably delicious

But that wasn’t the reason I did it

No, I remember

I remember wanting to show you who I was

Wanting to show you my passion

But I was still young

And my mother was in the kitchen behind us

And this was the first time we were meeting—sober

At least I think that’s right

It was a long time ago

And yet, it was yesterday

One of the clearest memories I have

Watching you, watch me

Today maybe we’d just rip each other’s clothes off

But then, we couldn’t

We daren’t

We didn’t know each other yet

Still, I can’t help but think that in that moment

We knew everything that was important

That I would forever make a fool of myself for you

I would do anything to show you how you make me feel

I would be vulnerable

And risk everything

Just to have you look at me that way