A hot coffee, a cold heart

We met over coffee
when I happened to be in her city.

We talked about movies,
music, the food, the place
A small cafe, with dim lights and wood paneled walls
that seemed to absorb sound,
leading to loud silences.

We talked about politics,
something both of us knew little about.
However, we talked little about our lives in the past few years
something both of us wished to know more about

I tried making her laugh
Though she only let out quiet smiles
Unlike the times
When a silly joke would’ve left her in splits.

And when we were done talking,
the only sound that remained,
was of the little sips,
she took from those demure lips.

Then she fluffed her hair,
holding the clip in her mouth
Only to tie it up in a bun again.
While I made imaginary art,
with my fingers running along the glass table,
hoping she could she it resembled a heart.

The silence was broken by a beep on her phone,
which engaged her for a while
Bringing with it another notification, for me,
that it was perhaps time to leave.

And so we walked out of the coffee shop
And each other’s lives again.

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