The Frugal Repast

The Frugal Repast by Pablo Picasso

A man and a woman at a table
The man is blind, the woman is not.
Who has it worse?
The man cannot see anything, cannot tell if there is food he simply doesn't know about.
He's wondering if there's something he's missing, if this is simply cruel and unusual punishment,
He's wondering if he will make it and oh dear lord is that all?
He sees the pervading darkness and lack of light and hope,
with the perspective of one who cannot see at all.
And he smells the air in an attempt to find more food,
but catches only the aroma of dust and ash.
And is the ash from the air, or his body, which is breaking down?
Or is it literally his body, which he swears is made of ash
made of the same charcoal-carbon as the fire
the fire of pain, which pierces his body and pounds on his stomach
and can he please have some more food?
And he clutches the girl, his one guide,
the one he hopes is not leading him astray.
And meanwhile she considers how easy it could be to just leave him,
to push him to the ground and run away,
oblivious to the whimpering of a man whose inevitable death has just sped up.
While she gets all of the food,
and starves to death slower because of it.
and yet as much as she wants to, she cannot leave him.
It's as if Time is frozen,
or rather Time will not let them escape,
as their world crumbles and decays.
Like them.