Marrakesh Espresso
All the men left when she reached the rooftop
leaving behind quickly cleared cups. She watched
her city, inhaling spices rising
off thick, black liquid. Her wandering thoughts
roll forth and back. Slow tides. Hot coffee matched
her warm skin. His lost warmth, still lingering
like ginger and pepper in her huge cup.
Other roofs stay empty. Two palms touch
in afternoon breeze. She’ll sit till evening
proclaims prayer. One more cup before she stops—
just teasing her mouth, like his kiss. It’s her much
to ask. Let slow steam rise like singing.
All the men left when she reached the rooftop
leaving behind quickly cleared cups. She watched
her city, inhaling spices rising
off thick, black liquid. Her wandering thoughts
roll forth and back. Slow tides. Hot coffee matched
her warm skin. His lost warmth, still lingering
like ginger and pepper in her huge cup.
Other roofs stay empty. Two palms touch
in afternoon breeze. She’ll sit till evening
proclaims prayer. One more cup before she stops—
just teasing her mouth, like his kiss. It’s her much
to ask. Let slow steam rise like singing.
Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in southern California. His latest poetry collections are Roshi San Francisco (Norfolk Publishing) and Starting from Tu Fu (Encircle Publications). He is very fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Miles Davis, Kafka and Dante. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the activist and documentarian, Joan Juster where he made his marginal living pointing out pretty things. Now, he’s looking for work again. He has published 2 novels and three chapbooks and four full length collections. His first chapbook won the Negative Capability Award.
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