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LoveMessy hair which has held every color of the rainbow
Is not who I am
For these green eyes see beyond
Like a mirror, I was so fragile
And each crack made me that much more breakable, but
He who tore me apart
He who manipulated and abused
Nor he who cheated and lied
Were enough to completely break me
For when I was a puppet
Merely a body without a soul
Love found me
In truth, love is the part of me which I hold most dear
Because as it discovered me in my darkest hours
I rediscovered myself
And years ago, when someone might ask
Who are you?
I might have answered differently,
With my hopes,
When I look into his brown eyes
And I experience His great power
I remember who I am
Not the girl with the jaded past
Where sleepless nights were spent staring
Because cruel nightmares and harsh days collided
I am not even her, with the silly personality
For I am made to do one thing
And made to live by one thing
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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