I have so many things to tell you
In a thousand silent words
When I finally meet you
And the coffee in its cup goes cold...
Even if I only just stroked
Your fragile delicate hand
I'd be holding you entirely
In a tight unending hug.
Oh would I gaze into your liquid eyes
Trying, in vain, to fathom them!
Would I breathe deep enough
Of your aromatic breath
And listen to those curls
Hum a happy song as they
Caress, coyly, your dimpled face!
I ask myself again and again
If we ever have met.
And I'm sure we have
Time and again
Not merely sipped from
Many a cup of coffee gone cold
But from Life itself.
Across so many light years.
Across galaxies and millennia.
And we had gone our separate ways
Until, at this very moment.
When we forget the coffee
In its cup gone cold.