she sat in the corner
and watched the grey world
go by,
and out the window,
one person lost in thought at a time,
another gabbing on the phone,
walking on,
as she bit into her cookie
and let it be all that mattered,
and laughed quietly, thinking
to herself
how nice it was to think
nothing
beyond this latte
and the crumbly chocolate chip,
messy as it was,
but for once a mess
she could handle —
five minutes, maybe ten
in the corner, all pretend
that this chaotic bliss
of coffee
is enough.
That’s what the Tavolini provided for me. Well-put.
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