Coffee and Love
by Eunice Barbara Cabading Novio
The cup of brewed tasteless coffee Third Place WinnerNext Honorable Mention
we once shared
but it was not tasteless because
we licked each others’ side of the cup
savoring the taste of our lips
which is impossible to meet.
We asked for more coffee
from the sleepy barista
who was puzzled why we had
to share a cup, when there were
mugs and tall glasses for Frappe
cappuccino and Americano.
We talked about the things we lost
in a lifetime of our youth and innocence.
You ordered a chocolate cake,
dark, sweet, moist, bitter sweet
with only a fork because we
wanted to feel how it was
if you fed me the cake
on your wedding day.
But it never was; an imagined
celebration of union in a place where the sounds
were in unison, calling the waiters for bills and orders.
We were not bothered by their voices
because we talked with our inner voices
not opening our lips, but with eyes telling,
asking, what ifs, buts and whys
and then I felt a tear, falling down to the
cup of coffee.
It’s no longer tasteless
but too salty to drink.
We both stood
not even holding hands
but in our hearts
we still hold
the memories of long ago
when youth and innocence
were drowned by the raging river
under the blanket of stars.
About the Author
Eunice Barbara C. Novio is from the Philippines presently teaching English as a Foreign Language at Vongchavalitkul University. She lives with her husband Josemari and son Kairos and their four cats in Thailand. Eunice spends most of her time doing research on teaching English language and musing.