Cold coffee

She’s sitting all alone inside the café,
Though her man is right beside her there.
The order’s in:
For her – a glass of wine,
For him – a cognac and cappuccino air.
The waiter’s slow, not in a tipping mood,
No rush, no care, just moving like a ghost.
They sit beside a window veiled in gloom,
And feel, perhaps, a little more alive than most…
I read her silent words upon her lips:

“My darling, I have missed you oh so badly…
And now, I think I’ve got a little ache…
This wine… you shouldn’t have, not really…
Don’t frown… I’m joking... Sure, I’ll take a taste!
Just one small sip – I’ll drink it gladly, dear…
But tell me true… did you love me always here?
From way back when?
From that first night together?”

The drinks arrive – the waiter brings their tray,
But she’s too wrapped in what he has to say.
She listens close, her lips caught in her teeth,
A hint of blush, a hush beneath her grief.
She softly laughs…
She slowly drains her glass of wine… completely.
The cognac’s left untouched…

“My love... you’re tired? Look, your cappuccino… it’s gone cold so sweetly.”

He walks out through the rainy, twilight street,
His lover’s stride – no longer free, but fleet…

“Well then, I guess I’ll drink his cognac now…
And finish off the coffee anyhow.
Though it’s cold...
It’s cold… by now…”

Текст Alex MAK