Coffeeshop Talk

They are clamped and nailed.
A demand of a purse, is too huge a demand.
They part, occasionally.
Words do not follow.
But they let down their guard, occasionally, too.
To whom, you ask?
To their loves, you say!
What pretence you put, you know it so.
Well, to strangers, I say.
To people beyond their lives.
They open and flood.
Absurdity, you claim, irony, you claim.
Natural, I claim.
Only in the coffeeshop, there is:
No judgment or remembrance.
Kinship, Friendship, you rage.
The imprint, the constant rememory, I rage.
They fasten at prophesized reactions.
They are afraid of the eyes that speak.
The mouth that recognizes.
The mind that concludes.