aayoungyou make me want to set a singular place
for you at my late night table
so that you may watch me
bake pastries for you
me wearing nothing
but my red williams sonoma apron
and black heels
each delicate confection
forced full with sweet cream
and fruit flesh
a slow drizzle of raw honey in places
they would arrest me for it in west virginia
i’ll even grind your beans
and serve you fresh cappuccino after
if we make it that long
lunch time seated
fireside
in an industrial chain
coffee and carbohydrate factory
filled with hipsters and wage slaves
eating alternative proteins
vegan dishes filled with hummus
tofu
and grilled sea monkeys
being forced to listen
to a tacky woman with intrusive perfume
and a saccharin drawl
loudly discuss with her boss
their tempestuous not-so secret affair
as i attempt to read an old book of poetry
flipping through the pages to the end
caving in to the din
eyes finding my own handwriting
something long ago scribbled in pen
it reads
“Louis Armstrong, La Vie En Rose”
encased within a doomed black ink shaped heart
“Remember this moment when all is lost…remember how much he loved you
…remember how much you loved him. Now, gather yourself, and begin again.”