Infinite Coffee Trips Alone

Infinite Coffee Trips Alone

You prefer stirring coffee
In the shape of an infinity sign
And taking a warm sip,
Letting the fluid heat your belly
And burn the butterflies.

Your grandmother once told you
That love is the only element
That stretches out to
Unidentifiable measures.
This was before she forgot
Who you were.

You think back to summer nights,
When the second skin of clothing
Would stick like an adhesive
And you would open the window wide,
Secretly waiting for a beautiful stranger
To crawl in and lay beside you
But not close enough
To be completely repelled.

The coffee has one too many sugars
That you wish you could have given
To someone else
In the form of honey-flavoured kisses
And Pinot-Grigiot.

The final sip of coffee
Is wasted on your lips,
And you leave the diner alone,
Just as you entered.

If you are heartbroken,
That means you are still in love.

You wish you grandmother told you
That love didn’t last forever,
So you could sleep at night.