In the hipster cafe
where you must know
a foreign language
to order a drink,
where your drink comes with a
swirl of a heart which you sorely need,
where the price of that heart cuts deep.

In the hipster cafe
you might meet an old lover.
You might cry big crocodile tears
into your swirly heart drink
while he begs you to love him right.

In the hipster cafe
you might have a first date.
He might flirt with the cute barista
and then look you up and down
like a prized race horse.
He might insist on kissing you
because, chemistry.

In the hipster cafe
you might try to hide behind
an apple product pretending to write
or maybe really writing
while the swirly heart
slowly dissolves into nothingness.