Your coffee was cold.
It's been there more than an hour without you took a sip from the cup.
Your eyes stuck.
As they kept staring at the same silhouette.
Then she left, and you did too.
I was thirsty but I hated my earl grey.
"I want coffee. The black one. With ice."
I sat down in the corner of the coffee shop.
"Are we supposed to feel hope?"
I asked the brain but it died, and the heart itself went numb.
Better to lit up the cigarette as I'm waiting a cup of cold coffee to come.
P.S: For zine collaboration with Adrea Kristatiani
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