He handed me
a cup of coffee
that I’m fairly certain
could have taken paint
off these peeling parlor walls

Concerned as I was
about the future state
of my empty stomach lining
I was grateful for
a little bit of warmth

I ventured a sip
prepared for the same
bitterness that greeted me
when I arrived crying
late last night

But the subtle chicory waves
that rolled over my tongue
gave me pause
and enough courage
to break the silence

It’s going to take
more

so much more

than this morning brew
and late lunch plans
and trembling hands
and eyes that pick me apart

But it’s a start