image from poetess' personal scrapbook
Poem written for and submitted to “Pick a Line” poetry contest, Hilo poet, sponsor, December 30, 2025.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The expresso machine hisses, its steam whispering secrets~ morning's slow ache dissolves in remembered promises. I unfold my hands on the table, press my thumbs into the laminate, counting the knife scars you once traced with your finger as constellations. The door jingles. I watch the door open wanting it to be you, Tilly. I want it to be you so badly. A small animal in my ribs whimpers Tilly, as if the universe might shrug and give you back, steaming from the rain in that ridiculous leather jacket you stole from your brother. The barista calls order up for someone else’s life. I stir my spoon in circles, watching the foam collapse like all the things we didn’t say.
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