An orange almost stripped

of its skin, I had been

slowly curling the knife

around its flesh, careful

not to dig too deep. Once

the rind was separated, I

plonked it in the plunger

heaping on teaspoons of

coffee, shredded ginger

atop. I gathered this from

my most embattled love

who learned to cook with

mostly medicines. I kept

resisting a quite perpetual

cold, as blossoms outside

turned to foliage. I carry

jumpers, phrases, how to

roll cigarettes, etiquette

from past romances, still

passing them in the street

sometimes, smiling. I stir

honey in the pot of coffee

then pour a cup, don’t check

the time. I stare glazed over

sipping, sip until the cup is

emptied out then go to work