I step outside and you’re on your break,
smoking a cigarette, clutching coffee.
The sleepless night crinkling your brow.
It’s Hawaii today, you tell me,
where you’ll go when you quit.

Yesterday, it was Australia. The day before, Portugal.
A week ago, and I remember it clearly because I had
no idea where it was, you wanted to move
to Liechtenstein. Population: 37,000.

The waitress – christ, I don’t even know your name,
I’ve never asked, and forgive me for labelling
your face, your voice, to a profession you hate.
but every morning I pass by the cafe,
and hope and beg to see

a customer sat at a table,
thumbs twiddling,

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