Cold Coffee

Nineteen ninety-six I was on my bike.

Tearing down the street, cycling for my life.

And I saw you there, I stopped and stared.

You were in your My Little Pony dress.

I was in my jeans looking like a mess.

But I caught your eye, you waved and smiled.

You said “My name’s Annie” and stuck out your hand.

I gazed into your blues and stuttered “I’m Dan”.

And that was it.

 

Take me back to the street where we first met.

Dinner going cold while we spoke, I bet.

But we didn’t mind.

Cold pasta’s fine.

You grabbed me by the hand and said “Come with me.”

And took me up to Hollywood Hill and we.

Took in the view.

Just me and you.

And I new, that I love you.

 

Ten years on I’m in the coffee house.

Sipping cappuccino when I heard you shout.

“I can’t believe – Dan, it’s me!”

You sprinted over like a running race.

Wrapped me in your arms and you kissed my face.

I choked back a sob, one hell of a job.

 

So take me back to the café where again we met.

Coffee going cold while spoke, I bet.

But we didn’t mind.

Cold coffee’s fine.

Then I grabbed you by the hand and said “come with me”.

And I took you up to Hollywood Hill, and we.

Took in the view.

Just me and you.

And I knew, that I love you.

 

I told you that for the ten years I missed you.

I was tending to my broken heart.

You said “I never knew that I loved you.

Until I think way back to the start”.

 

I said “Let’s go back to the street where we first met.

We’ll ditch this cold coffee” and you said “You bet!”

Though we didn’t mind, cold coffee’s fine.

On the way back jump in the car with me.

I’ll drive us up to Hollywood Hill and we’ll.

Take in the view.

Just me and you.

 

© 2014 Nick Burgin