Hello/Goodbye

Hello/Goodbye

Jillian Hand 

Ten years into the future

you’re sitting alone in the corner booth

watching drops of rain glaze effortlessly on the glass window

your cold hands hugging the steaming mug

when you look down and watch 

as the milk begins to swirl within the coffee

and you’ve always hated the taste but you drink it anyway

because it reminds you of the rich brown color of my almond-shaped eyes

and your heart yearns 

as you remember the last time we parted

that Sunday in November

when you held onto me

and never wanted to let go

as I was your only warmth within the brutal winter

Now you sit and wonder

where my life has headed

if I’m still writing in my little red book

Whether I’ve traveled to London or Rome

And living on canned peaches  

if I’m still reading Faulkner

And teaching the flowers

Or if I love someone as much as I could have loved you

and as you stare into the coffee cup

Remembering the color of my eyes

you’re transported back to the Monday in college

11:42 

we share a caramel latte

in that corner booth by the window

watching as the snow gracefully descends

and we’ve only just said hello

but here I am 

already picturing goodbye