“Coffee stains the mind” she says,
Across the table where she sat,
I turned to look her way to see
If it’s me she’s looking at…
For it’s a fairly crowded room
It could really be for anyone
But I’m sure to be the only guy
With a cappuccino in the hand…
Now I turn to see an angel,
Smiling right back at me
Like a flower taking power
Over a clueless little bee…
As my eyes froze, transfixed,
My heart felt warmth, my body felt heat,
Was it the temporary heart eclipse?
Or my cup of coffee being spilled?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem