the empty chairs

coping with the space
no more squeezing arms around herself
the wind flies her off
not holding onto any soul, she's lost

suddenly a lad appears
the empty chairs are no longer quiet
there's a spotted anxiety
a glimpse of undefined hope

should i say a word
should i ask 'how is the food?'
slowly beating hard what-so-called my heart
breathing in deeply, release it unnaturally

eyes stuck on the phone
frozen, avoiding to move
only thumbs dancing on the land of keys
pretending she's busy as everybody sees

this is it,
she ends up with some lines
words arranged in sort fancy style
not long 'til she comes back into the realm
the chairs have gone back calm