it's never just coffee

waking in the morning to a shifting life

new thoughts and feelings

between the person we fell asleep with

and woke up to.

i reach out to pull the covers back

leave the headphones on the table

and walk to get coffee

streets lined with brownstones and trees

morning birds, gray skies, the hum of early morning New York

i open the door

"how are you?" I ask

he doesn't answer

"americano with half and half," i say

"whaat?" he asks, earring, nose ring, tired eyes, downcast eyes

"half and half"

"yeah i know"

"americano" I say.

i sit at the window and feel a little unseen. a little old. a little disconnected

"americano," he says

"appreciate it," i say

he turns back to the corner he was standing in

my slight anger shifts

"maybe he's sad," I think

and walk back home.