I dunk my crossaint in my coffee I sit amongst the music, the voices of strangers and feel at peace not as lonely. A single figure in the background in solitude, hoping to be seen hiding in plain sight.
Beautiful poem, sister. The comfort of little familiar things and being surrounded by people, even just other cafe goers, seems like a healing space described here.
Beautiful poem, sister. The comfort of little familiar things and being surrounded by people, even just other cafe goers, seems like a healing space described here.
Thank you! That means so much coming from you.