By: Kailey Milks
The way her lips
form a perfect circle
as she cools off her latte
fascinates him.
She knows the vernacular,
fluently speaking barista.
He watches her, examining
her ringless fingers,
bracelet covered wrists.
her jacket has been patched
twelve times over.
He cannot decide if this was intentional.
he observes the bag
resting on the back of her chair
overflowing with worn leather journals
and secondhand books.
He wonders what stories she’s read,
which worlds she’s visited,
what adventures she’s had.
He looks up to find her
staring back at him.
His cheeks flush
his gaze returns
to his shoes, and he
sips his coffee,
black.