It was the
Long-lashed, pretty eyes
That looked up slowly, from the rim of
The coffee cup.
The only, real movement,
As thousands of people trod the streets beyond the huge glass pane.

It was the
Long, reassuring fingers
That lay slightly curled around the cellphone
That sleek which matched its owner

And the shoulders
Broad beneath the dark shirt

From all these bloomed a feeling
Like an exquisite, unfurling rose
And the sweetness of the caramel
She could taste from the one, condensed,
Kiss.