table 2

the coffee’s okay

i say

trying to fill

the flat white moment

with will

full meaning.

two creams, one sugar

clouds up the mugs surface;

my brain in a cup.

you staring at me’s

not helping either.

the coffee,

as it roils,

makes my gut

turn too.

unsettled settles in.

should’ve left it black.

the liquid

pulls me under.

I look around

one last time.

everyone else

is moving in

their own spaces,

stirring,

in circles,

too.

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