Cup of Coffee

Fear me. I know we are all connected
and how to feel your weight.

The last time you tasted chocolate
you were an older child in Phoenix.

If only the miniature woman
played the grand piano

to liven up the doll house
with some ragtime.

It is okay that you liked to play with dolls
and preferred their lack of genitalia.

I know high school was murder on you
as parents forced you to strip away yourself

so you would fit their norms
even as a they embraced glam-rock and Bowie.

I am glad I met you here on the dock
before you joined the fishes

confident some oceanic voodoo
would give you space to breath.

Trust me. I believe I am the first person
who ever took the time to listen

to the unimaginable wringing
in your hands and ears.

copyright © 2023 Kenneth P. Gurney

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