Shameless Transatlantic Coffee Mornings

Ode to my literary superior

Guilty pleasure? Bullshit.

We celebrate our  shameless literary tendencies!

We need coffee, stat, and a working pen.

Head filled with buzzing thoughts of freckled skin and bruises.

 

Chronic blushing as warm as their breathless words.

Unashamed smirks concealed in a coffee cup

We ponder the unspoken aloud to each other

And giggle at The Writer's Blessing: No limits.

 

There's darkness, of course, in the catharsis

of lamenting to a faceless friend.

Tales of fathers and problems and losses

Are paper cuts on sore wounds. We hiss.

 

But even so, we're transatlantic café friends!

And we know what words have the power to do.

Good choices- and we can see the smiles

And yawns of "good morning" are a promising kick.

 

As I say, there's no shame in our steering

of second-hand lives. Poor things. Exhausting...

But it keeps us fresh, with a skip in our step

And a reason to think before typing.