Food, always food first

She hands me a paper towel

I decline, wipe my hands on my jeans 

She nags me about it, I smirk

I disengage and carry on eating 

She reaches towards my upper arm

I feel her hold it, I look at her disapprovingly 

She steps back, and sighs and nags again

I focus on my food, at the road side stall

I hand her a glass of tea, ginger and all

We raise the glass like it was a toast

I pull out a toast from the counter, bite it

Ignore asking her if she needs on too

She looks at me, rather lovingly

I look at her watch, pointing to it

I ask her when she is heading back home

Because we broke up 3 eateries ago