concave lens

out from the night

against a blowfish of light

she sways left and right

room enraptured tight

coffee stirs

with hushed murmurs

as she confers

the menu, orders

small black no sugar

spoons bent and brokered

obscure angles of her

to make life fuller

moments that may lead

to some great deed

when she concedes

my love for her, for me

but she spills

and i do nothing

stuck imagining our bodies

sitting and fucking