Tacky cafes are everywhere.

i reached across the table
as if stretching.
as if.

the cafe felt like sunshine;
transparent
cancerous
a plethora of miles away.

he was like the sun in different ways,
but also distant.

and if he was like the sun, i would be the moon:
pale
horrendous complexion
my light not my own but only a reflection of his
so rarely would we line up properly and
if we were to actually meet, it could prove
either fatal or catastrophic
or both.

i stretched across the table
as if reaching
and snapped the bill away from him.

this cafe is trying too hard.

the baked goods are too expensive
and the uppercase letters are too far away,
but i appreciate the effort
in an effort to pad my karma

we both laugh, a good chance to look down
looking forward for too long
can seem too,
well,
forward.