It’s nice it’s dark
the music is
selected
by the memory and
hunger
of fidgety hands
the ice is
smooth middle of the road
outside there is
a junction, medium busy
and when you’ve
stayed too late
the air is
freshest
there is no
social code exactly
but you will be
ok
not Cheers, not
Cha Cha
not about coffee
(I’d like to drink my coffee at home)
not about dinner
(I’d like to have eaten already)
but
lots of excuses to stay
including
coffee, including dinner
there are booths
there are windows
there are people
you know people you don’t
a song comes on
that aerates
the diagonal cave
between your sternum
and heart
you look around
for the culprit
and the culprit
is the sum
another universe
at last
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