Was it strained? Us?
Will we ever happen?
The kettle screamed at the brightness of Sunday
Is that calmness due to comfort
Or because it got awkward?
Two of coffee and sugar each into two cups.
This was how things felt with us.
Poured water into each cup.
Was it going to end?
The swirling of the spoon created a dark brown concoction.
Did you think the same?
The white milk calmed the dark to a mild almost magically
Do you still feel the same way about me?
The spoon swirls again to even it out.
I keep the cup on your side of the table.
Since when did we have sides?
The black and white of the newspaper
Tries to dull out my thoughts
When sudden heat hits my neck,
“Thank you” You say ever so slightly.
And you kiss me.
Maybe second chances are what we need.