Elsewhere can’t be reached
our steps are born, buried—
here
It’s not a fairy tale
It waits at the edge of a train track
A café, not a house--
A kiln, not an oven
I followed
coffee beans, not breadcrumbs
women, not witches
money, not sweet words
In its fire
I meet myself—
glazed—
until it cracks—
another else—
unborn
I can’t outrun here.
I pour dark coffee—
I burn
our steps are born, buried—
here
It’s not a fairy tale
It waits at the edge of a train track
A café, not a house--
A kiln, not an oven
I followed
coffee beans, not breadcrumbs
women, not witches
money, not sweet words
In its fire
I meet myself—
glazed—
until it cracks—
another else—
unborn
I can’t outrun here.
I pour dark coffee—
I burn