Coffee Shop Sessions

The chill of a winter breeze nips my cheeks.
I suck in and blow out little breath clouds
as I stride across cobblestone streets bathed in light.

My bare thighs above my knee-highs
ache for your touch, your warmth.
I clutch my collar and rise my red coat
buttoned up to my chin, not letting
anyone or anything else against
this trembling skin.

Was it that long ago when you greeted me
sharing words of hunger and lust,
raising the temperature of every room we’d step into
with a nibble on the neck any chance we’d get?

Each November since hasn’t been the same–
no hotel rooms to whisk away to,
no bites or love bruises to heal from,
no whisperings of sweet lines;
my lips beg to speak your name again.

With this bit of red cloth,
from button to button, I hold
my insides up to my chin,
determined this will keep
the heat within.

This crimson enclosure
will remain unopened
until we meet again…