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Tinkling rhythms engulfed us
As we sat in a cuban bistro,
Surrounded by the populace
And having nary a place to go.

We spoke of many things
That curried the other's favor,
Then I noticed her silver rings
And decided I'd wait no later.

This stranger that sat before me,
Blue curls atop her pretty head,
Observed my hand steadily
As it dropped off the table's end.

I reached into my bag and withdrew a rock,
It's complexion of gold and plaque shining silver.
Her reaction was that of pleasant shock
As I wished her congrats on turning a year older.

Now, a year and some days later,
We've both reached a special place.
Day to day I get to face her
And feel my lover's warm embrace.
Cup after cup.

From the bottom of a well
lined with discarded mugs from
memorabilia shops
I strain my eyes
and through my tangled eyelashes
I fight for vision between sun rays.

The world might always smell like
coffee gone cold.

— The End —