Angels in The Coffee Shop
This poem explores dating in this day and age. I always felt analog when it came to dating as it feels very quick, rushed and superficial to me, but I have been told countless times that this is how it is now, so I just got to keep doing it. I wrote this after a peculiar night I had with someone. I was contemplating a lot the next day and those questions come up in the poem. Is this it? How do I know if this is the right feeling? You can answer them to yourselves if you’d like. Something was clearly missing from our shared night but I did not know what. Maybe I will never know what the right feeling is. At the end we are seeking some form of a validation. We want to be seen, which is ok, and this encounter was no different. Then the tides pulled me in, and I returned with this poem.
Be like water.
Written in London, UK 2023
Freshly baked sourdough
But I can’t seem to find my
Hunger. Flour in the air. It’s
Particles dance in a small rainbow.
Delicate fluffy pillow lips greased
With honey chapstick.
I bite mine to catch it in the love net
And let go of the gross profit.
This margin is seducing. A nameless
Currency giving life. The price?
Vulnerable nights smelling of
Freshly made rice and morning glory.
We sit on the ends of the sofa holding
A cushion tight to our being.
Endless silence as we engage in
A static dance where unknown is foe and friend.
I want to open up your brain or heart
Or wherever you keep those unspoken
Acts hidden away and I want you
To tell me what to do.
Tell me what do you want and I shapeshift.
Guide those hands they will serve.
They will play a fine melody until we sync
And the angels sing in harmony.
Black americano. It smells of raspberries.
An ambulance wailing on the street and
I take a sip of warmth again and again.
Is it really terrible to look for divinity everywhere?
I see my angels in the coffee shop sitting
Next to my usual table. I know they are
Watching and can’t talk to them even
If I damage my chords and spit blood.
I made countless altars in no ones name
Only in the name of a question.
I’d trade it all away. Night could absorb
The light but I want to know.
Is this it? This is what it’s supposed to be?
Is this the thing that lives on forever?
This the right feeling? Was this the plan?
How do I know if this is really the right thing?
I don’t. I can’t know. Blinded by so much
But the menu stays the same.
I could eat everything always but won’t get full.
To know someone is there waiting for you.
See it. Say it and I will be sorted.
- A