in the corner of zapp thai

i find the meaning of life

where my father takes me

where my mother disappeared

there’s something in that hot tea that means so much

the way the first sip always burns my tongue, and it hurts for days after

the way the waitress whispers ‘thank you’

‘have a good night’

the sweetness i feel for her is how i know agape is real

how i know, deep down, i can be so full

the way the fish in the tank stare and swim

i could feel bad for them, but they don’t need me to

the silence of the wooden walls and the crates of whatever stuffed in the back

the smell of pepper and sugar and frying

emperors on the walls, papers from the nineties, probably

somehow, it’s always so good

somehow i could cry each time

the sauce has glitter in it and my eyes sparkle as i scoop it up

there are people crying, people alone on New Year’s Eve

there are couples fighting, men with wandering eyes

the pleather peels off the booths and i realize there’s never anything more than this

this feeling i find under the aged lights is what the Buddha was talking about.