Seventeen empty containers of cream
Stacked together and crushed neatly
The contents of which accented
Two pots of coffee
At a 10:1 ratio
Of coffee to cream
Why?
Because cream makes coffee tolerable
And the coffee makes the place tolerable
And if that doesn’t work
Then there’s a flask of whiskey in my coat pocket
That might blur the edges a bit
As it is
The view has got me down

The abstract paintings
Nailed to red brick
Are starting to look as cliché’
As scene kids discussing fashion
In a mall

Maybe we should let the paintings
Discuss themselves
And nail the damn kids to the wall

But instead I pour myself more coffee
And grab the flask out of my jacket

“Not too much”
I think
She’ll be here soon

Seventeen times that kid over there
Has given me an audacious look.

“What took you so long?”
I demand of her
As she sits down across from me
She doesn’t look
But pours herself a cup of coffee
And lights two cigarettes
Passing one to me
She drags deep
Examining the paper
As it burns
Then, glancing around the room
Exhales
And brings her eyes to rest inside mine

“I hate the art they have here.”
She says
My eyes burn knowingly and she adds
“Have you written anything lately?”

“One kiss
Like sipping tea
Out of a broken glass.
        Carefully.
Because this could hurt”

She laughs ironically.

“Am I that bad?”
“Glass cuts only hurt once you’ve noticed them.

”Her eyes envelop my moving mouth
As we share thoughts of insanity

She has no qualms with the outside world
Except her forced participation in it

She sits silently waiting
With the ever present cigarette in her mouth
Burn: inhale,
Exhale: burn
Measuring intensity
Calculating the moment
Burning time

Slowly

Watching for a chance slyly to catch me
To cauterize my wounded heart with her
Smoky, burning kiss