I met her at a cafe
she was on a common wall
out of many one
from behind the counter, standing tall
She grew impatient quickly
and asked me if I own my home
No, I’m renting; I’d retort
(what business was it of hers I thought)
that’s personal – for me to know
and me to know alone
Good; came her reply
I answered back with why
‘cos if you were purchasing your own home
you'd never decide which one to buy
Make up your mind – prey, decide –
If it hadn’t been so hot
I’d have thrown the latte in her face
yet as I took it from her,
I was scalded... by the cup.
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Published by sensualism
I love writing - poetry mainly, but the odd thought or story may find its way to the page as prose. I'd love to contribute to poetry and writing groups near my home by the sea but the dreaded clock seems to beat me most times. I do happen to contribute to https://cosmofunnel.com, a poetry website with 'panache'. Check it out for a different take on things.
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