The neurologist gives us permission
to go to Rome: Live your lives.
We order cocktail shrimp at the hotel bar,
fries with a parmesan snow. The waiter fills
our flutes to the brim & we swim
in the golden liquid & sink into the leather sofa,
the delights so cliché the cliché the delight
we sing along & avoid eye contact
with the lounge singer: sha-la-la-la-la
two brown-eyed girls in love
dark lipstick on the rim of the glass
& the lounge singer starts Lady in Red
& we swoon & people around us eat their olives
from shallow dishes & we order dessert
to keep the night going, to keep
the sweetness in our mouths
Copyright © 2024 by Seema Reza. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 21, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.