Solidity

Last autumn we walked along the side street.
The long one
that starts over by the little brick cafe.
The place where I used to order two coffees
and set one across from me.
Then I’d sip mine while I sat in the company of the other.
I hoped that I would absorb some of the warmth and comfort that radiates off of a cup of coffee
because my soullessness drove everyone away.

One day you sat down
in the empty seat that had only acted as a backdrop for my company.
And more warmth came off of you than I’ve ever felt
from a glass cup of liquidity.

But, you were solid.
Something I could hold in my hands.
At least, you looked solid.
Inside of you,
was something transparent and breakable
and Autumn wore on
and you became less and less solid
and the leaves fell in the water of your soul
that was so clear, and so easy to pollute.

And so quickly
our walk along the side street
met its end.
And you became just another cup of coffee.