zeros and ones
A.N. Grace

They were old
     to me at least.
Eyes like flowers
     left in water
     too long.
Winter
     of discontent.
In hushed voices
     they conversed.
He held her
     by the elbows 
     no one seemed to notice.
Who holds someone
     by the elbows?
     Old people?
I carried on eating
     as she stood up
     her chair scraping
     the seabed, waves    
     breaking

A.N. Grace lives in Liverpool, England. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Another Chicago Magazine, North Dakota Quarterly, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, and others. You can find him on Twitter @isthisboring.