Crumbs

It was while I was
sitting alone
at a table for two
and staring
into the depths of
my second
double espresso ..
I tried to
make some sense
of all
the crumbs my
breakfast
croissant had left
behind,
on the side plate ..
It was also
the same moment
I thought,
if I was to try hard
enough ..
I might just find a
certain
familiar face again ..
But failed
just as miserably,
as I had
done yesterday ..
And the day
before that even ..
In fact, all
I could see through
the tears
and the steam was
the back
of your torn leather
sandal strap
and frayed hems
of blue jeans ..
Each caressing your
Achilles
and all that then
remained of your
exquisite vulnerability ..