Extra Plate Tuesday

I said the sauce needed more, something I forgot.
I could clear it off, and no one would ever know,
But my hands won't move it, so I let it go.
Leave the extra plate right where it is,
Let the candle burn down slow; not tonight I'm not clearing it,
Not yet.
Some habits take their time to go.
Maybe that's the honest part of loving someone: you cook for two and set the table anyway.
It's not a plan,
It's just the way my hands remember; every Tuesday I forget,
And then I don't.
Leave the extra plate.