I’m meeting you for coffee. You see me and wave me over. Your hands span a cinnamon cauldron – Hot syrup, milk and cream.
I watch customers over your shoulder.
– A solemn girl is sitting alone by the door.
– A ravenous man by the window is devouring pastry.
Thick lips steal bites – a tooth-rot taste of folded almond cream.
His mouth is dirtied with dustings of icing sugar, and flakes of almond.
He saves the crumbs for a wetted fingertip, and the girl watches her coffee