Two Mugs

Two mugs I order.
Two mugs set at the table,
     one before myself;
     the other to an empty seat.

Am I bold enough to tell them?
Am I willing to say what is on my heart?
Can I approach them with burning honesty
     and radiant compassion?

My shadow pulls up a chair
     to my left
“Just give them what they want to hear,
     if you must dodge the issue do so.
     Offer them a ear to hear but not your full commitment.”

My coffee returns some warmth to my hands
The steam teases my eyes to dance along
Poised to pray I take a long drink.

A man comes by with a mug in hand
     the only feature of note
     are his eyes of deep blue that are nearly black.
He looks at me with a cock of his head
     and squats into a chair to my right
“You can only play this game for so long,
     confess your love to them, not just in word but also in deed
     As cliche as it is, follow what your heart desires.”

Hands still in prayer,
     my coffee now modestly warm
I take several swallows and still
     wait for them to come in and take a seat

The door chimes and they enter in,
     golden and glowing they approach my table
     and gracefully slip into the opposing chair

The air in the room grew silent
     And I counted a cold single minute before I spoke.
“I’m glad you could make it. Don’t get me wrong,
     but you are not as great as you make yourself out to be.
“We had our fair share of laughter and sorrow, but I can’t
     keep on dating you.
“I don’t blame you for this, it’s just my obsession with you is
     why we must break up.
“We can’t grow together if my only aim is to live through you.”

At this she opens her mouth in shock,
     a wide O of her mouth
But she quickly gives me a faint smile
     piercing her lips and lifts a single finger to them.
She leaves her chair and comes to my side
     and gives me a full embrace.

I hesitant for a second,
     then I embrace her back.
She leans closer in and makes a whisper in my ear
     but no words come out.

My eyes seek hers,
     but I am staring into my coffee.
     My hands about the mug.
No second cup on the table.
I take a sweat swallow of coffee,
     and silently toast to my Past.