The Art Cafe

Before me is a cup of hot cappuccino

topped with  milk foam in the shape of a heart.

A  heart floating in a bowl of heavily scented silence.

In a silky white attire,

bewitching  the ailing minds,

assuring of an ethereal future.

A gentle kiss.  The milky foamy heart, a healer in pretense,

seeps slowly  into my overcast depth

only to stimulate dampen sparks                                 

Unfamiliar faces, yet so soothing

I stare at nothing in particular

A forwarded joke on my  WhatsApp and

I text back a smile.  “Still upset?”

“No, I am alright” a digital smile in return. 

Start everything again from the debris

seal   open wounds, and smile

we are resilient you see. Brave.

I stare at nothing in particular.

A Waitress in multicoloured synthetic hair braids

is returning with an empty tray

raking an uncomfortable past up.

Her young boyfriend, missing since a month

 was a thief with many women that she knew.  

Denying the rumours about his death in a police encounter

She waits. A kind lover, she is.

A unique blend  

Of half truth; the Cafe brews.

-Prajna