i won't begin to explain the burn of coffee
to a person who slept last night
and the night before that
in hesitant comfort

this person takes the elevator with me
with a cheery sprinkle of rain in his eye
and an irrelevant comment waiting like an old orgasm
in hesitant comfort on his lips

books are waiting to be written
so i tell the man to go write a book
something changes in his look
and he springs at the chance to walk briskly away