The amber glow of candle light reflects against the wall,
but caught up in your hubris, you don’t notice it at all.
You seize the chance to prattle on about your newest deal,
overlooking table settings and this tender veal
I’ve cooked just to your liking. The asparagus grows cold
as you expound on how intelligent you are, and bold.
While I, my dear, think my own thoughts concerning your bombast,
of how this anniversary might well be our last.