Monday, April 10, 2017

Bittersweet

I see you
walk into this
coffee shop
every
day.

You enter the
doors,
buy a large
upside
down
caramel
machiatto,
and walk to your
favorite
table.

You used to have
another
corner,
but it has been
taken
by another
that you are
taken
with.

You lay down your laptop
bag,
remove your cup's
cover,
enjoy its sweet
fragrance,
and take
a drink.

A little bit of foam
usually covers
the top
of your lip,
and I wonder
if it is
as sweet
as the caramel
I
slowly
precisely
lovingly
pour
on your coffee
every
day.

You take a few more sips,
sometimes swaying to the
music
that I started playing
all the time,
ever since you said
it was your
favorite.
As you silently
sashay
on my mind,
your eyes never leave the
corner
you gave up
for another.

I notice you
 notice them
 noticing you
but never
noticing
me.

You never
see
the smile
I give you
when you say
my name
as you order
the coffee
I make
only
for you.

You never
feel
the touch
of my hand
when I give
you your
change,
a small
spark
as electric
as espresso.

You never
hear
the thank you I say
each time
you go,
leaving behind
the
moments
you
and I
imagine
in this

space.

I know you will
never
see
me
while seeing me
every
day.

But
I will be
here,
making
your coffee,
enjoying
your smile
as I make your
drink
perfect
every time,
drinking in the
bittersweet
of a
secret.

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