A secret he had
killing him, it was
quietly
dying, he was
to lay his burden
yearning for somebody
to share
It could not be
Anybody
had to be nobody
un judgmental
unbiased
A perfect stranger
was his need
Then there she was
at the corner table
in the musty café
savoring ,moments
wasting, time
sipping, jasmine tea
He pulled a creaky stool
She stayed, unmoved
She poured, another cup
He poured his heart out
Two lazy afternoons
Few evenings
Dark . Cold
And half a dozen tea pots
Spent, just like that
In that indulgent nook
And ,it was done
(at least, so he thought)
undone, he has come
rid of demons within
he picked his bruised ego
thanked, her blessed soul
to continue on the path of his own
But that was not that
The end, it was not
She felt for the tale she heard
Drawn to the narrator.
Fallen she was
for the man in front of her
So here it was
A perfect plan, gone wrong
Cause , now she was somebody
and somebody now knows
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