Waiters carry champagne to and fro.
Guests laugh and dance gaily under
the radiance of the moon.
Fireworks keep her tired eyes open,
Painting the night with white, green and pink.
Inside, a couple argues over an affair
Men keep tabs on women
Cigarette butts and ashes litter the lawn.
Finally, dinner is ready.
And then, a deathly hush falls upon the sea of people.
They swarm around her body,
Her, in a sequined dress,
Her, with makeup to paint The Swing,
Her, our host of this party.
Him, holding her head in his lap,
Cries he’s sorry.
It’s in these moments, we remember
How much we really love one another.
— Zaid Ali