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Colombian Bean Confessions

I took my coffee black
he flavored his with secrets
I never really understood why
but he didn’t ask my reasons
so I didn’t ask his

he wrapped his fingers around
that old coffee cup
in a way that felt familiar
funny how the soul
knows some things
long before the mind does

silence crawled along
those teal stucco walls
uneasily invading the air
I had so much to ask, to say
but I knew he’d never
give too much away

not a believer
in magic or destiny
nor a fool for fairytale fate
I fought back the fervency
coursing unmercifully
through my veins

downing the last drop
of Colombian bean
still lingering at the bottom
of my ceramic coffee cup
as I finally found my feet
I shot him a smirk of a smile
and followed what senses I had left
out the front door
never looking back

my heart finds pause
from time to time
wondering where
his secrets led him and
what could have been
had he flavored
his coffee with simplicity
instead of secrecy

once I thought
I had glimpsed his face
in the sun setting shadows
of Heritage park
but I never let myself
ponder that image too long

nights are getting colder now
the aroma of coffee
brings me much more
than just warmth these days
I now flavor my dark beans
with a dash of mystery
that turns my tasty java
an intriguing shade
of feldspar possibility

©LadyRaine