All Tomorrow’s Partings
Many, many years from here; who knows when:
we’ll meet. Maybe coffee in a Costa,
bean counting, awkward grinning across rims
like mugs. Drunk and punched by a
past we've lost.
We will, I’m sure, refuse the offered
cake.
Talk much about nothing for half an hour
or so, snipping each other’s phrases; words
bitten in accidental halves by nerves.
Disputing the bill will make our
hearts ache,
who wants to be in debt to the other?
who wants to be in debt to the other?
Fumbling for coins that change like
false lovers.
Then leave. Forever, I think. Love's last showers.
Count your brief moments and lust in love’s
luck:
Your futures lie like dregs in coffee
cups.
