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.