keep still
we stopped at the café by the harbor docks
talked for an hour in the window seat
of how you'd take me south in the winter
you drank cappuccino and spooned off the foam
i liked black coffee, freshly ground espresso beans
you smiled as you poured your leftovers on the green lawn
fire and rain; coffee and grass; you and i
remember when it was summer solstice in december
and i washed the dishes in the kitchen sink
watched the sunset through the crack in the curtains
bleeding red, the sky, golden wine velvet
heavy, woven in things lost and forgotten
you went outside as the rain came down
left your car keys and umbrella at home
like the night when you met me
down by the banks of the thames
when london bridge was falling down
dust settled on the days gone by
i had counted all the sand grains you spilt
i've been keeping company with ghosts
because i was empty, artificial
synthetic from the pieces you left behind
skin deep; hollow otherwise
i was the shell of a dream, tattered
beneath the weight of the sky
i've taken to drinking green tea in the morning
(london bridge was falling down)
your scent; your name
still written in my leftover tea leaves
