Poet/Predator

A conversation over Coffee

“So…what do you want to talk about?” She asked shyly, gentle hands cupping an ice coffee.

“We could talk about anything. Work, classes, the weekend. Family or friends. Anything you want” I replied, tracing the rim of my own coffee. Black and still steaming.

“I don’t know where to start”

“Then I guess I will. You are familiar and foreign to me. We’ve spent time in class, studying and doing homework. Working on projects too. But we never got to discuss anything other than that. One of the reasons I was looking forward to this summer so much was that you were going to be around. And you wanted to hang out! I was glad to hear those wishes escape from your lips. And now he we are. We could talk about anything. The sun or the moon. The stars. Your favorite constellations or maybe a story you have about a starry summer night. Tell me about your home, your family. Your past dear. Your present. Your future. Tell me about the first time you cried, you bled, you loved, if ever. Tell me about the last times too. Your fears, your hopes and dreams. If you dare to share them I am more than willing to listening. There are a million billion things we can talk about between heaven and hell, and as long as I’m talking to you, I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d like to be.”

“Wow….” She whispered, one twirled strand of hair falling across her face. Her eyes staring at the miniature icebergs floating in the caramel colored sea she held.

Chuckling as I take sip of my coffee, its bitter taste washing over my tongue, “sorry I laid it on kind of thick, didn’t I?”

Her head shot up and a smile illuminated her face,” No, I really liked it, It’s just…I’ve never had anyone talk about me like that. Ever.”

I reach a hand out gingerly to grab hers, she doesn’t withdraw.

“Then allow me to try and make up for all those guys who mucked up”

She looks down at our hands, and then back up to match eyes.

“I would like that”