i sit
at the counter
lifting a cup to my mouth
and welcoming warm, golden tea inside
it feels like liquid sunshine
as it slides
down
down
down
i sit
at the counter
turning page after page
licking my thumb and index fingers
page
after page
after page
after page
aft-
stop.
it was no mystery that this one was a tale of tragedy
i sit
at the counter
the tragedy has arrived.
a lover
cradles the newly deceased loved
he weeps and he screams
he breaks
and i close the book

maybe it is selfish
but
i sit
at the counter
i ignore the one
who has just lost his love
and instead
i hold my head in my hands
i feel myself
momentarily projected into his place
and i feel
for a moment
that it is me
cradling you
                                                         dead
                                                            ­                                        in my arms

                                                           ­                                     for a moment
                                                          ­                                                  i break

for a moment
i feel as if i am living in a world
where you no longer exist