John Kipling Lewis - last call

when coffee comes at last call
the rain still clings to my leg,
like a memory, like i wish a you would

only rarely did you rain on me

never the down pour

never the deaths I wanted

always a step away,
arms away
pushing me further back

the coffee taste like mud
so far from what I wanted

sex with you was never great

John Kipling Lewis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/last-call-3/