Cafes

Cafes

1. I often sit in cafes thinking of you,

And now that I am older

That is enough.

I am dressed in black and gold and the universe -

Black to mourn

Gold to celebrate.

I found pieces of me in Paris

But left them behind.

I will answer the message you sent soon.

I have been distracted.

I have been sad.

Things have been happening in my life.

Yours sincerely,

The heart.

1. A holding place

To rest a moment

We will not stay long

Only until the ink runs dry

Or the laptop screen swims

And the care with which

You place utensils in cups

Will be the only sounds that I hear.

Once we were embraced

In the smoke of cigarettes,

But now coffee from

Peru tickles our nostrils

And here we will not

Think of suffering.

We will write novels

And pontificate over

Sticky cakes on a slate.

I will indulge myself

As I cannot think what else to do.

I will dry off the rain

And breathe out the smell of

Human decay from my nostrils.

Wake up, wake up, my dear.

Madame, the cheque.