Every Friday we agreed in the coffee shop across from the bookstore where we first met. NOT a date, just casual meetings, something to look forward to.
Our lives were struck,
Burned with distraught,
Speckled with hope.
A long week ended on a happy note, two hard workers, and a cup of coffee or two and four slices of cheese cake.
Every Friday changed to Friday afternoons and early Saturday mornings. We were drawn to each other like the opposite sides of a magnet, or the sun to the color black.
Similar in like,
But similar all the same.
One day you arrived at the door step of my apartment, only to be let in… it was raining after all. You broke the rules, now our meetings are not casual any longer. There’s something to it.
More than something to look forward to,
More than an escape from horrible reality,
More than a silly love interest.
We no longer meet in the coffee shop across from the bookstore where we met. But at my place or your place, watching old classics, singing along to 70’s music and eating caramel popcorn on the ratty couch.
Having a good time,
Not just a casual meeting,
Not just something to look forward to.
It was a spark or two,
A fallen star,
A light bulb over the head.