Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The One Where I Spend My Lunch Hour.


Dear Lover,

I like to write to you while sitting at cafe tables.
Heart upon paper.
The light scratch of strokes.
In crooked cursive.
Clutching my red journal.
Breathing deep.
Tenderness escaping in sighs.
That send scents of coffee curling.
Daydreaming of you walking in.
Setting off the jingle at the door.
Reminding me.
That you're closer than ever before.

Love,
Me.

1 comment:

  1. So visual, I feel I'm sitting at the table across from you...

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