It ended slowly.
Coffee cools the fastest when we're least interested.
The last few sips arduous, obligatory.
Didn't mother always say finish your plate?
How rude to the universe lest you be grateful.
Didn't Oliver teach us wanting more was forbidden?
How rude to the universe lest you be grateful.

Eyes up from the mug
the battered face of a weary angel
eclipses all else.
My soul sank beneath the stars, shattered.
Am I really that much trouble? I asked.