We sit in the cafe – Half Marathon Poem #3

We sit in the cafe

She takes a delicate bite
of the pastry, white teeth
tearing the croissant,
red tongue darts across
pink lips, chews and
swallows.

“I don’t believe in
love at first sight,”
she proclaims, and
I nod in agreement.

After all, it took
me seeing her twice.

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