We'll do this forever if given the chance,
this meandering talk, dangling spoons
and drowning sugar cubes in our coffee cups.

I'll pick at the sugar-sticky tablecloth,
you'll fidget, smoke a cigarette, laugh
a nervous laugh that goes on for days.

We'll come close to forgetting how we only do
what we're best at: plucking words from the air
like overripe fruit, elongating each pause,

masticating the adjectives until they spill over
onto the napkin of excuses tucked under our chins.