My life's work
is to sit in coffee shops
with strangers who feel
like home, every one of us
a vessel for croissants
and coffee we don't taste.
We sunbathe and drink
behind windows
and wonder why
we're still so pale.
Meanwhile the sun
continues to give
life to the land
and anyone who sees
that the exit
is the entrance,
that coffee
was meant to be enjoyed
in colder hands.
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