Drink Up

by the time you finish your coffee, the sun will have set, and the moon will appear to carve out a pearl shadow in your cheek.

we’ve sat here so many times, at this table, in this apartment too small for our souls, our toes miles apart under the table, my feet tucked into christmas socks you tell me not to wear anymore because it’s july but i crave the comfort, the feeling of thumbs tucked into sleeves of oversized sweaters and staying in bed in the morning next to you hiding ourselves from the icy air. 

but each time we end up at this same wooden table, gathering more and more coffee stains and dust over time.

your eyes peer at me over the edge of your coffee cup. your fingers are black and ink-smudged from the morning’s crossword, and i think maybe some bled into your eyes, they look a bit extra black this morning

by the time you finish your coffee, the sun will have rose and we’ll be sitting a little bit farther away, the same feet on the floor, the same hands gripping mugs but different eyes.

your eyes search out the window for something, anything, something to save us, to save you? your head is tilted at an angle and i notice a piece of your hair that is slightly longer than the others

my eyes study you, suddenly the feeling of unfamiliarity washes over me like the tide but my eyes remain, suddenly seeing your hair, your eyes, the freckles dotting your skin; i don’t know why my eyes linger, but something tells me it’s not for much longer.

by the time you finish your coffee, i’ll be gone.