Coffee with You at Nine: a poem

By Rachell Pak
Staff Writer


A simple name that sounds like a single letter

Misspelled for our comedy,

One cup’s bitter, one cup sweet

Comparing which one is better.

The milky steam that rises

Soothes our sandy tongues,

While we reminisce past forgotten loves

And movies the other recognizes.

Tracing over the topography of your scar,

Connecting constellations of freckles with your finger,

Your fresh laundry scent still lingers

And helps me remember your endless charm.

Coffee stains on sheets of music

And the resonating echoes of laughter,

To others they might not matter,

But to us are like bedtime stories, nostalgic.

Our heads in the clouds and hands in our pockets,

We fell in love within the length of a song,

Even though it wasn’t very long,

There is nothing wrong about it.

In this ever changing world,

How did we know for sure back then?

But I know I’ll see you Sunday 9 AM

Just us, a boy and a girl.


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