The coffee shop is congested,
But our booth is Ours’.
Your cup is full and tepid,
While mine is nearly empty.

Again, you share your life:
Soccer games and broken toys;
Clothes which are now too small;
How inattentive he remains;
Fresh batteries in his TV remote;
Daughter’s eyes identical to yours;
A room, half-painted for months;
Training wheels soon to depart;
Your car is old, his is new;
Grease on the kitchen faucet;
The ‘Tooth Fairy’ arrived twice last week;
He used to love you, you’re sure;
The washing machine shreds your bras;
You dust his High School trophies;
Your son wants a BB gun for his birthday;
The cold winter consumed your savings;
“Sandra”, your on-line friend has cancer;
His parents rent their seasonal home in Florida;
Your wedding gown still fits.

While I listen, in numbing clouds;
And tongue, pasty from the coffee;
I can barely recall the details of the rented room,
But vividly remember your ******.