Pizza

We'd meet at Pizza Hut. Hold hands under the table, drink shitty
beer and cider, and discuss futures at the salad bar.

Back at the table we devoured side-bowls of bacon bits, croutons,
potato salad, red cabbage, garlic dip - as much as you wanted.

Later, in the multi-storey, we kissed.
And the taste of thousand island dressing was mixed with a hint of
Diamond White.

Love was mentioned once, but only in connection with a particularly
fine four-cheese thin &; crispy.