10 pm coffee

the smell of the roasted beans
awaken the folded memory in my brain

the time when i dipped my poetry in my coffee
hot and strong
like an old bitter song

there ....
at the corner of the 24 hour cafe 

"does it ring you a bell?"

the time when i sliced all the stanzas
in to pieces of crumbly tears
glitterly clear

and you just sat with a glass of cold beer

you thought your shadow had ears
you thought it listened to your darkest fear

and the night wind presented her fiercest laughter..

i hope you still remember
or do you need a shinny dagger
to open the worst chapter
of this poetry dipped in  my coffee...