sitting in a brasserie
sipping from a glass of brandy
when the clock says it is time for coffee
i scan the room and try
to think about the stories
the characters
the meetings
there's the couple at the table
in the corner not far from the shitters
the wine is red
and so are the roses
but the eyes they tell me
romance is dead and buried
and i'm thinking maybe just maybe
i shouldn't be the only one
switching to brandy
