I’m briefly transported from the diner,
far from the faux leather seats, the questionable hygiene,
the guttural grunts from the coffee machine, struggling to
grind the coffee beans, the hollow slurps from the kids behind,
the rambling man who openly speaks his political mind, the furious waiter
strutting the floors, hands grappling grubby dishes, sweaty pores, racing
around for compliments and morsel tips,
I’m temporarily deaf to all this, taken by your smile,
your laugh, and your soup-stained lips.
Originally published August 2016