SARAH VALEIKA
Our Cafe
There is something in a cafe that wills us to speak as though powdered muffins are our communion as though boiling water is universal through some swinging door threshold we pass it, and we sit in our cafe and I watch you as you sip, ice dripping on the outside, much like a stinging sensation shoots downward down a back down the line down a hand when it’s burned with boiling coffee we won’t speak the same way not when it spills, not when pain thrills and chills and when the door opens to commuting cold air no burn too strong for your powdered muffin or your tapping foot beneath our table and we’ve sat for hours and the workers shifted the table’s wiped straws litter the street-salted floor and here we are your coffee lost feeling but you never needed it anyway here we are thank God, here we stay |
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- Issue 3, Vol. 1
- Matthew Fairhurst
- Gargee Sathe
- Elysia Utech
- Sarah Valeika
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