"I just can't do this any more, Bobby,"
and the tears come, ripening her cheeks.
Drake quivers - chills the china
with a finger - the mocha
turns to milkshake
at his lips.
And his heart's a knuckle of permafrost.
His scarf like snowchains.
Two tables away, a woman
is snooping at them.
Holding down the nimbus in his lungs,
he thinks, "I dare
her to come over
and say, 'He's not worth it.'
I'll ice her like a cake.
