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So Long GoodbyeMourning eyes watched blackened skies
Cold rain falls like black ink
Avoid bleak truth for sweetened lies
Sometimes it hurts to think
You're moving on but have not moved
Gray memories act as chains
The strangling bonds must be removed
Dead skin still shows the stains
Cut through the corpse and move along
Why cling to something dead
Break through the death you've lived so long
Let go of words unsaid
Do not forget the bonds that tied you
But don't bring them back to life
There are many eyes you could look through
Each perspective wields a knife
Your wandering mind gave birth to lies
You thought it might survive
Stare down the body with warm eyes
In the end you're still alive
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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