Kamil Czyz

Beginnings

You observe the waiter, the dance between
fixtures sharp with anticipation, the smile that cuts
meticulously shaven face. The accuracy
of being
that is aware
of being
observed.

You’ve been here before, but he doesn’t recognise
you.

Maybe because it is the want that defines you,
the want of the body, of life
glossed closely and while tables
almost touch,
delicate
with age, worn in endless sonata of
impatient fingers, palms offered or withheld,
you watch
as you did so many times before

but not until now your eyes ever moved
in search of

what?
acceptance? affirmation?

Or maybe because you are new to this,
to the anniversary dinner on your own,
‘table for one’ whispered, pushed away
aghast,
against confessional screen
suffused with shame.

At least you’re still here even if drowning in
every single day, hour, minute
of being
alive,
sick to the bone each time you hear
how sorry they are,
or how lucky
you were,
as if it was a raffle, as if
you’ve ended up with a prize to the drunk applause
of the crowd for

the vivid memory
of the hood outstretched proudly
in soft gesticulation of cold,
blooming steel, ceaseless in uncertain gratitude
to the sudden quiet.
Champion. The winner who is by now
used
to feeding on emptiness.

This is your meal. Someone
prepared it.
Someone sliced the meat tinged with scarlet,
held the knife and
watched the juice stop at the tip of the steel only
to submerge it with assurance
in naked flesh, possibly even letting out all the residue,
all ancient emotions for the sake
of full plate. Tiny drops, little diamonds,
trickling tingling things at the rate of hourly wage.

Kamil Czyz was born and raised in Olsztyn, Poland and now he lives and writes in Gdansk. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Open: Journal of Arts & Letters, Detour Ahead, Coffin Bell Journal, The Pointed Circle, The Athena Review, The Scriblerus, FLARE: The Flagler Review and Apricity Magazine amongst others.