The Second Cup

I don't drink coffee

but I always make two cups

when you're here.

The second one sits cooling on the counter

while we argue about directions

or what time the thing starts

or whether the window needs to be open.

After, I drink it cold.

It tastes of compromise and mornings

and the specific warmth

of a life that has someone else

running through it.

I've started to think

I don't need the coffee.

I just need a reason

to make two cups.