I am the girl from the coffee shop
(The Bird and the Bulldog) —
Though when I say “girl” I actually mean “woman of diminutive stature”
And when I say “from the” I mean
one Friday morning I walked in for a coffee
And there you were, face toward the door
Staring intently at something on your laptop screen
And a little voice in the back of my imagination whispered
Oh, perfection —
I realize, of course, that you have no idea
Any of this ever occurred and that
This mere daydream is foolhardy at the very best
Still, if you are unattached and unafraid of imperfection
I am the girl in the coffee shop sitting sideways to the door
Messily eating toast and jam
