There are two half-full cups of coffee on my desk
(and one in my car).
But you'd make me more in the morning
If I asked.
Like how you would drive my car in the rain,
Because I can't see the road
(even though I never told you I couldn't)
And then make me watch bad movies.
You're better than the rain,
You're the whole monsoon season,
Shaking the whole world up with yourself,
And making it better every time.

I live in a desert
My Dear.
With a loopy-eyed cat who bites
and a roommate who might as well.
All of my clothes are ripped and stained
and I don't know where I'll be working tomorrow.

The other vagrants and I
We can't afford to stay,
but we can't afford the gas to leave,
either.
The summers are too hot--
the winters are too cold--
and the days and the nights are too dangerous.

But we're here
and we're young.
And someone has to feed the cat.

She wanted him.

Not the him who calls after midnight
from a diner off the freeway
Because he doesn't work for another 12 hours and if she wants to have dinner with him this week
she'll come

But the him who drinks coffee with her in the morning before work
after their alarm told them
they'd slept tangled in each other,
again.

He's still new.
Sipping on the same soda from the same restaurant after two years
Wearing the same shirt, same colors, same car. Two years later.
He has a new job-- new watch.
But the same haircut.
The same drunken goodnight kiss on the same mattress we've slept on after going to all of the same bars.
Paying with the same credit card, ordering the same food.
Falling asleep the same way.
But after two years
Every good morning feels so new, every good night so wonderful
And he still looks at me like I'm brand new every time.

Our hearts don't break
For lack of love.

Plenty of people do not love me,
And I lose no sleep.

Perhaps your heart breaks for those who do not love you.
But mine,
Mine,
Mine.
Breaks into pieces every time I realize that
Love is not enough.

He knew--
Not well, but he knew--
What she was.
That she was the steam coming off a cup of coffee
No cream-- no sugar--
Bitter & Dark.
And she would rather drink alone than drink what she wasn't
What she didn't want.
But little by little he added
Some grains of sugar.
Some drips of cream
Until she was cool and light.
And now he's sad to see there's no steam.
She lost who she is, he forgot what she was,
And they just don't know each other anymore.

I like the taste of old coffee between my tongue and the roof of my mouth.
Just how I like the blast of the a/c on a hot June afternoon.
And sitting on the porch looking at the city when the sun finally sets on these summer nights,
A tea in one hand and a book in the other,
With a mosquito swarming somewhere near my ear while its friends nibble at my ankles.
I like candles and hot showers and waking up after the sun to find out it's still only six am.
But even if you don't like all of these things too,
I still like you in the summertime.