At the Coffee Shop


Her lip quivers,
shivering at the injustice
he threw her a few minutes ago.

I stand quietly beside
the red chair
watching crystalline people,
pretending I am not waiting for you.

Back to her he went
like a child to a favorite toy,
forgetting how many broken toys
are in his past.

I watch him as he uses her,
a weapon against any kind of love.

I see her, flaring tender jealousies,
willing herself to love harder.

I want to gather her,
hug her like a child,
ask her why he captivates her.

And then I remember,
being fourteen.

This poem is in the collection Breathing for Clouds, you can get a copy HERE

©2014 Christopher Reilley

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