Coffee

She said, “I ain’t been without a man since I was a little girl of thirteen,
And now’s my chance to find out who I am without a man.”

I said, “Darling, I know who you are, and who you are’s looking better every day now,
And who you are’s the girl I’d like to make the coffee for each morning.”

She said, “Coffee’s mighty fine and good, and you can put a pot on while we’re talking,
But these days I wake up fine without your kind, I wake up fine without your kind these days.”

I said, “Darling, I’ll be waiting here until these days are through, and then I’ll wait some more,
’cause my heart cares not for reason, rhyme, length of time or breadth of highway.”

She said, “Don’t let me catch you waiting boy, ’cause I ain’t waiting for the likes of you now.
I pass through the likes of you like water through the grinds, and I come out the other side strong but bitter.”

I said, “Darling, if you’re water, let me be the riverbed you come to rest in,
Always rushing past, but never running dry, and, if you overflow my banks, I’ll still carry you to the ocean.”

She said, “You ain’t heard a word I said.”
I said, “Two cream, no sugar.”