I Could Never Be A Poet

Remember

Remember that time?

Where we both sat in slow sweet moving air.

Silent.

Inside a café with a library too.
Hot chocolate in hand and lattes to lips.

Raining cold and warm inside.
Yet silent.

It wasn't the awkward silence.
Nor tension silence but,
A silence where we talked with glances and stares.

Smirks and grins.

We loved it. You loved it. I loved it.
It was what we planned wasn't it?
Me, you in a café?

All a dream.

You saw it.

I saw it.