A Small Intersection

This time our paths crossed

over coffee and comics

while the ghosts of our past

fluttered about in the air,

never quite making it

to our mouths, never quite forming

words on our tongues.  

Around us, people stared

into the lids of laptops

or the lens of their phone.  

Two elephants kissed

near the bathroom.  

I was always concerned

that she thought I was too

pessimistic about life.  

But this time I was coming up

from the bottom, on the way

to fame, to stardom, to the annals

of history.  

It was a small intersection

for a Friday,

but sometimes it’s nice to run into

a face that isn’t scowling,

that’s welcoming and weary,

that digs up the great sex

skeletons of once upon a time

and sips coffee, black,

out of past relationships

made from a paper cup.