The coffee cup

The coffee cup still on the counter, Cold and gray. A lipstick stain half-kissed away from yesterday. We watched the snow fall through the window that Last day. Your fingers traced a heart that fogged And slipped away. The streetlights hummed a low and steady ember song. You packed my bag while I just stood there Thinking wrong. I watched you fold my shirt, your hands a Little slow, as if the fabric held a secret You'd never know. Cold night, long seat. Sun forgot just you and me. Frost on glass, a faded line. Left my heart in that design. The endless day, that summer light that never died. We walked the bridge until our shadows multiplied. Your laugh got caught in the train's horn, Sharp and thin. I counted every crack In the sidewalk where we'd been. The river smelled of rain and rust of old Machines. I kissed your cheek and promised nothing, Just the in-betweens. A single thread from your coat sleeve clung to My wrist. I didn't brush it off, I let It twist and twist. I told myself it was a train, not a Goodbye. Just a ticket to a city with a Brighter sky. But every station sign I pass, It wears your name. A quiet ache that never Learns to play the game. The ticket stub is crumpled in my coat's left Pocket. A tiny paper ghost. I dare not try to lock it. Cold night, long seat. Sun forgot just you and me. Frost on glass, a faded line. Left my heart in that Design. So. hold the key, the rusty gate, The porch light on. I'll find my way before the final winter's Gone. The snow will melt, the days will stretch, The nights grow short. I'm coming back to that same street, To that same port. And when I do, I'll leave a pebble on The step. A silent promise that the one who left has Kept.