Where do We Sit?Something grips mewhen the smooth, pink nailscome into view.He pours her a cokeand I see the silver pinky ringon his left handshinning in the flash from the camera lightHe leans overputs his lips to her earhidden by a dark curtain of hairThey share a whispershe laughs, showing straight white teethThe face can see so muchthe words so littletwo people,trying to impress?seemingly so contentto sway in each others' armsand pulse to a separate throbit means so much nowputs me apartPeople I think I knowthought I knewdon't seem to know me, or care toSoWhere are we going to sit?I'll tip some chairs for youso when you make up your mindsyou can join usSo where are we going to sit?I have no clueby Natalie Studwell,Mt. Prospect, IL