Sugar, please.

I found your sweet tooth days before you asked me to pass the sugar
this morning,
it rained and I made you coffee to warm your heart
how my words never could

but my coffee was always too bitter
perhaps in the same way that every memory i give you always needs sweetening
in your eyes
i see you look towards the sugar-tin out of habit
even though i piled every sweet granule i could find right into your mug
hoping that for some silly reason it would be enough.

Your voice carries across the table,
like it always does,
with the gentle sound of rain on the roof
“sugar, please.”

Sometimes I wish you’d realize that i need the sugar, too.

Β 

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