red syrup lips and melodramatic coffee
with one too many sugars in,
cinnamon toast with a slather of butter
melting slowly into a last tango,
short neck ached and rolled his head
in no hurry to retire as master of the stool,
radio perched on corner shelf
gave a soundtrack that a morning
this dull needed
rain that sometimes threw itself
against glass so vision streaked,
another diner who had rig outside
looked vacuous as if part of his brain
had disengaged permanently ,
sumptuous toast bite butter ran
from the corner of his mouth
damn he needed a bib,
a single paper napkin dabbed it away
as he looked at her again
violet on the name badge
next time passing caught her arm
fingers harmlessly easing pressure
and made his smile as vibrant as
possible,
when do you get off
with a sassy shimmy and smirk
eat your toast and drink your coffee
then you will know,
he loved the manipulative tone
of his falling into a trap
that passion had sprung
gulping with an eager tremor
knowing he was ready
Sunday Whirl
velvetmedia 