You stare into the enormity of
Each tiny space
Between the parts of us
And you think
As your coffee brews
Drop by drop

You wait with bare legs
Your sour map of the stars
Crisscrossing the floor
Marking ellipses
For previous and patterned mornings
of cold white sky

Smoke from your cigarette
Moves in frigid heavy air
And nearly brims the room
Where the table has been folded
And set against the wall
As it is now

The floor is older still
And peeled away in spots
And you think
Slouching in your socks
The ones that snag sometimes
On the uneven floor

Where spots of spilled coffee
Fall in places and into constellated shapes
To lead your way
Through the last of
Night's shy iridescence
While outside the clouds gather