Coffee Shop

Would you like to go to the coffee shop? Where the smell of damp fills the nose, As rain outside starts to shatter like dancing glass, Leaving darkened stains on dampened clothes. Would you like to go to the coffee shop? With frosty hands that puncture from warmth, Sniffling noses relaxed from fog, Quavering shivers that slice through coats. Would you like to go to the coffee shop? Since roasted aromas fill the box, Slurping echoes through the empty air, Creaking vibrating from half broken chairs. Do you remember that coffee shop? The one where we first touched our cracked up lips, You slipped right through my fingertips, Dropped the cup as you whispered goodbye… … like our favourite coffee, how bittersweet.