She sits in her seat,
glancing at her watch,
a ring wrapped in love
shining in the sun,
eyes wandering—
searching for someone.
But who?
People pass by—
some laugh,
some click pictures,
some silently judge.
Why? What’s wrong?
A waiter comes—
“Your order, ma’am?”
he asks, swallowing a smile.
Why?
“One black coffee,
one iced Americano.”
He takes the note
and walks away.
The clouds dim their light.
Darkness settles.
Stars open their eyes—
but where is he?
Days turn to weeks,
weeks into months,
months into years…
but where was he?
Her gaze falls,
pulled down by gravity.
Hands trembling,
bones beginning to show.
No trace of black remains—
only grey,
in a hope that never learned to die.
Her ring begins to melt—
was the sunlight too much,
or was it her love?
People pass by—
some laugh,
some click pictures,
some still judge.
She laughs.
And in that moment, she realizes—
he was never late…
he just never came.
— Blue Hour