i’m sorry for slumping my shoulders
as i sat across the table from you
and i’m sorry for staring at my paper coffee cup
like the caramel-colored-cardboard held a hidden secret
and i’m sorry i didn’t look you in the eyes
whenever you talked about your family
and i’m sorry for not saying much at all

see, i was afraid of what would slip from my brain to my tongue
and all i could think about while sitting with you
was the way his hands felt on my hips that night
and how his kiss left the back of my throat scorched with acid
the way i promised myself never to take a risk again
and how i was forgetting that promise every time you smiled
but, mostly, i was thinking about how i wanted to douse that damn coffee shop in gasoline,
strike a match, and watch the world burn with me