Sunday, June 14, 2009

I wait like a puppy tied outside a coffee shop.

I walked through the city to meet you. I thought we might turn and walk back through it together with peanut butter stained paper cups and plastic white spoons clinging stickily to our recently licked fingers, but you made me wait too long and so I left for the quiet train station.

I didn't want a drink with your friends. I wanted to drink water with you from cone-shaped paper cups.