Her red dress frayed at the edges
like her nerves
her fingers tapped a lost beat
don't sweat it
but her fingers touched glistening drops of
liquid courage
borrowed like the lipstick staining the rim
keep a lid on it
heels loud against cement, echoing a rhythm
like rehearsed lines
the memories of which followed her coffee
and spilled
words eloquently falling in place, settling
like sugar on the bottom
hands stilled by their sweet murmurs
of her acceptance.