Poor poets who can’t afford food
feast on metaphors.
I’ve replaced my desires
with the best finely ground espresso-
nonstop hot black
caffeine shots.
I feel edgy
about this addiction, but surely
everyone can see
how much I pine for you.
Your Latino lips dripped gold like the filter-
“mi amor, have you had your coffee?”
I’ve been watching
Cinema Paradiso again,
drowning in my own nostalgia.
Looking at you so far away
inside this broken photo frame-
you won’t stop staring back at me
for being a fool.
When love gets too much,
I cover it
with hard winter snow.
It melted
like I did
when you whispered
in my ear,
you wanted me to stay.
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