tonight, when I walked into the restaurant,
a simple request I made:
“something special, please,
tell the chef to prepare something special, I
am tired of what I have eaten before.”

“sir,” replied the waitress,
“the chef has declared
each item to be
exactly what you have requested;
though previously eaten, it is
no less special.”

thus have I come upon this
insight: love has moved beyond
the discontinuous, the new -
and now, I must simply
abide
with joy.