We sit in the cafe
with rosy, wind-stung faces.
The sunlight shining in
lies about the temperature outside.
I take down big bites of
banana chocolate-chip pancakes, smothered in syrup.
She eats more daintily,
the smoked salmon with eggs.
We speak words that fumble over trembling ideas
of places we’d rather be.
She says that pictures of milky coffee
remind her of how she wants to see Paris.
