they have a table,
and it's theirs but also not theirs,
because you can't really own a table
in a coffee shop but also you don't really
see anybody else sitting there but them.
and what i mean by that is,
even when they're not there, they're there,
because that's their table, in their corner,
where he smiles at her for no reason at all
other than the light hit her cheekbones just right,
or maybe he just wants to smile at her because
they're in that kind of love where you just smile,
all the time.
and she stares at him when he isn't looking,
and anybody could see that he just takes her breath away
because when she watches him, time seems to freeze
until he looks up and catches her,
and then he just smiles at her and her eyelids flutter
like freshly blossomed butterfly wings
and they laugh like its some sort of secret,
this game that they have where he smiles
and she stares and then they both smile together,
like nobody else could even begin to understand.
she orders a caramel macchiato
because she likes sweet things
and he orders a cappuccino
because he doesn't sleep enough.
i didn't think those drinks were
supposed to go together until
i saw the two of them sipping
in the corner.
they don't speak much.
they don't add to the white noise
of conversation, and you find yourself
watching them because you don't need
to hear them to know.
she reads poetry
and he works on his laptop
but sometimes, she will reach out
and show him a line she likes,
but sometimes, he will tap the top of the page
she's reading and have her listen to a song
he's working on,
but sometimes, they will just look up
and he will reach out and grab her hand
and tell her he loves her, or that she looks especially
beautiful today, or she will compliment his eyes,
or remind him of how happy he makes her,
and they don't do it because there's a need
for reassurance, they just do it because they want to.
because the words feel good wrapped around them.
when she leaves, she kisses him.
it's short like a heartbeat but it's like
she needs it to get through her day.
like the stain of his lips will make
her lecture less painful.
you wonder if she tastes like starlight.
you wonder how ocean water would taste
from the hollow of her collarbone.
he looks like he knows all of it and then some.
you order a caramel macchiato and wonder if
one day you'll get a sip of something like that.
-c.h.
YOU ARE READING
how the words come
Poetry"this is the poetry that has come from finally realizing it is okay to be okay but also not okay at the same time." ~ 'how the words come' tells the story of overcoming the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship. the book is separated into...
