My queen is at Miss Lyndonville Diner

I order a cuppa coffee and nurse it for an hour just to watch her.

Caffeine kicks my IBS up bad so the whole thing is painful.

I watch her the whole time, careful not to get caught.

I watch her long neck with her hair piled up.

I watch her hands and the way her legs move and the way she… I dunno.

Everything.

Everything everything everything

And the whole time my gut is killing me, from that first sip on.

But I order coffee cause that’s the first thing she says to me.

And it’s ok that it hurts cause I’ll never have the guts to — Oh, here she comes now here she comes:

She glides by and I can smell her for just a moment. Part of her stays in the air for a moment.

And then I go, and I drive across the lot to look in the window a last time.