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January 3, 2024

POV: broken hearted in a coffee shop during COVID’s soft opening

A spinning stool in a cafe,

Hearing all the strangers –

A giggling cashier nervous for

A “FaceTime dinner date” this eve,

“So, you only have to worry about an outfit from the waist up?” asks a laughing barista.

An old man dropping political anguish

“She’s not that smart,” he grunts

“don’t judge that unless you have had

a conversation with her,” the barista answers back

A worker in the back gushes over

A lemon bar recipe she made for her mom

“I turned it into a cake though,” she prides

The thought alone makes me salivate until

A toddler tugs on my jacket

Look at mea and smile, his eyes say

I want to finish reading these last two lines of my book,

it’s finally the part when you’re hooked,

no going back

but the innocence

Steals me every time

Ocean, blue eyes

One day he’ll add extra cream into his cup

And bury his nose in the Red Eye

African beans fill the warm air

winter’s chill sneaks through the revolving door

Petty’s voice echoes behind, “The waiting is the hardest part”

The corners of my mouth lift, sitting in solitude,

a witness to busy life.

And I know now what I didn’t know before,

couldn’t get through the night,

had to call it a day

You’re still the worst

part of me

loved me for my beauty

didn’t know my nature

and

Morning’s fuel

couldn’t dissolve

last night’s ache

Because

heart runs on diesel, and

you only had regular unleaded.

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