All Alone.
All alone except for
The dame sitting across
The way drinking coffee
Her lips ready to sip her
Hands holding the cup
Her finger looped through
The handle and she closes
Her eyes as she sips and
You notice how the lips part
And how the raised cup touches
The softness of her and you
Watch and imagine the lips are
Touching yours and she is
Emptying you of all your juices
And swallowing you up and
Draining you away just like the
Contents of the cappuccino cup.
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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