Coffee Shop Fade Out

Coffee Shop Fade Out

I’m seeing this all, saturated in the stain of winter.

It’ll be someday soon. Maybe after Twelfth Night.

I will be with her in some coffee shop or other.

She’ll be looking oh so pleased with herself.

All chuffed and churchy in her righteous Christianity.

Her over juiced drizzle cake and rosary knuckle duster.

She’ll tell me what I am and laugh at what I’m not.

My espresso will taste of of salt, the dregs of tears.

I’ll take it on the chin again. Jab, uppercut. The knockout!

She’ll say she’s sold the rings, her once famous wedding dress.

I’ll make small talk, tell of my first cappuccino in Soho.

She’ll mention the costliness of divorces, how she’s not rushed.

My favourite coffee scene is Holly Golightly, staring into Tiffany’s.

We won’t risk the talk of new loves. Those sleeping in our beds.