One, two, three

You smooth the lapel of a stiff new coat,
A polite little laugh caught inside your throat.
He pulls your chair out, plays the part,
While you trace the silver spoon and play it smart.
I raise my glass across the floor, you nod back once,
Then check the door; he doesn't know what you came here for.
You look at him, you think of me; it is my name,