La Rev

The next morning,
at a corner café, quality beans
sit quietly in clear plastic drawers,
aging in limited air and inking
the glass with foreign oils.

I asked the beat-down barista
for three pounds of unground,
single origin, fair trade, organic beans.  
As he printed the source in permanent marker,
I imagined how sumptuous
the bursting brown package
would look when I
swung open the freezer to reveal it at home.

That night after dinner, the coffeepot
steamed and lurched
with the taste of another continent.
Over our second evening cup I asked,
“Would you prefer not to be hurt,
or would you accept being hurt
if I went way over the top in making it up to you?”

“Coffee is a complex substance,” she said.  
“Not just chemically, but something
about the way it makes you feel.  
You know?”  

Then she asked to be alone
so she could finish the dishes.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not just because of caffeine—
and not just because Rev
said she needed a breather—
but because of something else,
tucked away beneath all our bitterness.




Next:  Staticky

This entry posted by J Rand : 9:54 AM