Over Coffee


    In a perfect world, coffee would already come with cream and sugar.


    Not yours though — you like it black,


    with little sweetener pellets; two or three;


    It’s what they do in Germany.


    In a perfect world, we’d wake up at the same time,


    and sleep better together.


    In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to leave


    so early, or at all. I wouldn’t have to worry


    if our semesters align in Spring, or Fall.


    In a perfect world, you wouldn’t steal — sorry — borrow the blanket


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.in the middle of the night.


    In a perfect world, in the middle of the night, when you stole the blanket—


    or otherwise—


    I wouldn’t wake up


    frightened, cold, alone.


    In a perfect world, I wouldn’t yell at other drivers, and you wouldn’t have to practice stoicism,


    or posturing, or carry mace


    while walking down the street.


    In a perfect world, both of our moms would still be alive.


    In a perfect world


    your parents would value your personhood, listen to you,


    and get their own damn therapist.


    In a perfect world I wouldn’t have been


    neglected, abused, cast out.


    In a perfect world, over coffee,


    mine with cream and sugar, yours


    with three little pellets and a stir,


    we wouldn’t be holding each other,


    tears racing like


    scared children, falling


    in an infinite moment,


    over coffee.