She sits in a
Cafe with her Laptop open to a Page. Plate empty with Crumbs Coffee almost finished. She ordered a Cappuccino not a Latte wanting to watch her Weight just in case She planned for this Time where she could wait for Inspiration to strike. It hasn't Yet. Ignoring her Needs to finish that Paper those Problems take those Notes from the day she missed Class. So this Window of Time could be here with the remainder of her Cappuccino growing cold So she could be a Writer and not a Student a Worker for this Window of Time Yet now it seems worthless to schedule for Now when the Inspiration still has Yet to Strike
<3 <3 <3
She enjoys her morning espresso while he savors his mug of cappuccino she shapes his dimpled face in her newly wakened mind he imagines her big brown eyes gazing like a buck...inquiring, yet dreamy she hums a lover's lullaby, for him, each morning, before leaving, he lets his charcoal pencil play on his ever ready sketch pads draws her face with pixie haircut they think of each other day and night always......at the very same time yet...not a word is said when their eyes meet...not an effort done, to break the ice they'd rather keep things within, their coffee mugs...witnesses, to their similar daily practices what a shame...what a waste! their elbows, their arms touch in haste as they hurry....towards the quay, the ferryboat takes long, they both wait leaving their untold love go by along with their unsung lullaby... it happens daily...without fail their feelings, bubbling as they sail but...neither has the guts to bare how could they let life go on this way? content with just a secret love affair... <3 <3 <3 Sally © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 5, 2018
...a work of fiction...
I once ordered a cappuccino
When I was with you Before knowing you would someday Spoil the taste of it in retrospective And before I knew There are people who would be named after it And now I know There won't be no more coffee for me!
Or so I thought... :(
Coffee meats my weariness in
All-out open battle Plays at swords with drowsy dreams Preying on fatigue Under foamy life traps Caffeine lurks ahead Closing in on oblivious bliss It pulls me back to consciousness Now my only hope for sleep is On spiking my cappuccino
Always wears Chinos By Moschino When making Cappuccinos And insists all that drink The aforementioned fare Wear clothes Adorned with safety pins And have blond spiky hair. Vivienne rarely makes Cappuccinos.
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