If we were having coffee, I’d wish that we’d be having it in that little cafe in rue de Thorigny, after a slow afternoon meandering through the Picasso museum. I would have a crème – avec plus de lait svp – because I’m not a real coffee drinker and I like the aroma of it more than the taste. The coffee is really the excuse for the cupcake.
I would ask you to tell me your story, the places you’ve left your heart at, the lives that are all twined up with yours even though you may have said goodbye a long time ago, the dreams that make you feel strong in the morning and make you cry at night, your favourite poems and what they mean to you. I would listen to the music of your tale, forget myself in the shape of your words, let my coffee get cold. Maybe I would be able to share your loneliness, by showing you mine.