Marginalia?

You'll have to take my word for it. 

I am that shadowy presence there; so barely discernable that I can only appear annotated.

This is insignificant I grant you.

Nobody else would remark it. 

My attention drifts around the tables.

Conversation

Laughter

Guffaws

Giggles

"I have scaled these city walls, 

Only to be with you..."

All is interrupted by a clatter of plates in the scullery.

We are criss-crossing sound-traces of vitality.

We are incidentally thus.

A table number?

A beer?

A steak?

A sticky-toffee pudding?

The IPA tasted good.

There is a folded napkin.

It is next to an empty glass.

"I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

There is no life here but marginalia.