The pink spills into the sky,
I, one with it, a comfort nigh.
The coffee, chilled by the wind,
reddening my cheeks, biting my lips.
The tiramisù taste lingers,
sweet and bitter,
as the night unfolds in silk and glitter.
I wait for you in restless air,
eyes scanning the view.
I tremble as the branches move.
There I stay, needing the warmth of your smile,
the parts of me to compile.
Your laughter echoes,
a spark in the quiet.
Coffee - luna.writes.chaos
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