No deep reason to post this now, other than I came across it. I wrote it in Cyprus about a week ago. 

 

Over Coffee

We sat across from each other in my living

room sipping coffee, just enjoying

the easy moment. The setting

is always different, sometimes at a

restaurant, sometimes at a coffee bar, sometimes at home.

We talk and talk, over a meal, over coffee.

Often we laugh. The years have brought many moments,

many meals,  and a lot of coffee. 

But tonight, I thought

I saw a glint in your eye for the first

time —to  ask me about—the  salt

on my pillow. 

That glimmer from your eyes bridged

the hollow years—that fragment of

connection— that ember from a sparkle

that burned against the cold night—will

gleam in my own eye,

the next time we meet.