Sit now in this cafe with me
and we'll play a game of chess:
I am thinking of taking your queen,
and putting two sugars in my coffee
at the same time.
We're talking about you and me now
and the sun is slowly fading behind
cobbled stones and Christmas lights
that illuminate this pulsing city
all throughout the night.
I hear your words, and they hit my heart
like a harp that's playing by itself
in the dark.
We're back to our thoughts and expectations
we're talking about that night
I drank too much and revealed my
lacerations
of past love affairs and difficult
family tidings
but let's not go there,
I'm on a winning streak.
The smell of coffee and earl grey honeyed-out
tea is making my nose twinge with notions
of good deeds.
Your hair frames your face in such a sophisticated
way;
*who wouldn't fall in love with you
if I went away?*
More than anything,
there is a feeling in my heart
that says I love you so,
but I've imprinted in your delicate place
for far too long.
Yet here I am,
questioning everything
as we play this game
in the middle of a cobblestone
town where the Christmas lights
shine above us
and the smell of pastries and
sinful delights
evoke a response that can disembody
me tonight.
I question myself: Do I love you?
I answer myself: I do not know.
Love is such a fickle thing,
and yet here we are,
passing glances
and your face is carved
into my camera lens
smiling back at me
and not knowing
how much doubt
comes into my soul
when I look at you.