Over the noise

Of the industrial

Hiss of the cappuccino machine,

The smells of autumn

Wafting in through the kitchen in the back,

I hear my name called.

My usual order,

Ready.

Nothing too fancy.

Caramel latte.

Skim milk.

No whipped.

(Doctor’s orders).

Three minutes slower today, I noticed.

I don’t have time for this.

I’m supposed to be in the car,

On my way to the office.

Looking to see

How quickly the lights

Will change to green

So I don’t get written up by my boss.

I doubt she’d believe why,

Even if I told her

Why I was late.

A nudge in my shoulder jars me

Irritation surges through my body

A wave crashing violently against the shore

Until

“Hey!”

A pair of familiar eyes.

Ones that I recognize from a lifetime ago.

“Hey,”

I manage, awkwardly.

If never forget those eyes.

That smile.

You told me once

Years ago

That we’d be together forever.

My heart leapt into my throat

My legs were numb

Barely able to hold me off the ground.

We promised each other that

We would share our hearts and our lives,

No matter what.

Then, time changed.

Passed.

I don’t recall if I was too late,

Or if I stopped taking up space in your heart.

Two continents, drifting apart.

You and I exchanged pleasantries,

How-are-yous,

What-have-you-been-up-tos,

Et cetera

Over the vagrant stares of baristas and customers alike.

Maybe a minute passes by.

We exchange phone numbers

(Do people still do this,

Or is it just a socially acceptable way

To end a conversation?)

And went on our way.

And all I can think of now

On my way to work

And throughout the day

Are the words I never got to say to you.

Am I too late now?