I see you enter, wet, over the tendrils of steam
rising from my coffee.
your smile brings me far more warmth,
your perfume sneaks through
surrounding sweet aromas of pastry
sending my heart racing
for a moment before you sit at the table
next to mine.
my mind is set a blaze,
concoctions of fantasy.
the scream of the steamer,
clattering mugs pulls me back.
you\'re not here for me
but I\'m here for you,
and I wish you could see me.
I leave before you do
knocking your arm as I go.
with heat in my cheeks and my throat caught
I\'m too afraid to apologise,
focusing too hard
on not making a more foolish scene,
breaking into a half run
through the sun shower,
as if I have somewhere to be
when something grabs my arm.
its you, handing my wallet over
with soft warm eyes,
I will away the fog
and thank you.
you smile with pity.
I see there\'s no hope for us,
for me, with you