brown -eyed man

He wants to know why
I always go for blue-eyed men
It's noon, coffee shop too noisy
for such confessions.

Perhaps another time, I will tell him
over a glass of wine
not when waiters drop saucers
and swear under their breath.

He lights a cigarette, this brown-eyed man
smiling through swirls of smoke.
It's their hypnotic movement I address,
as though I am reading tea leaves.

I expect abrupt endings, I explain
licking my cappuccino spoon
the adrenaline rush of goodbyes
cruel jabs, the sinking feeling of loss

'You are a drama queen', he says
'You are a drama queen'
'and I love that in you'.

I'll give him a chance
this brown-eyed man
time to hold a memorial for the past
its once fat bones now ready to be laid to rest.