Our booths fused by a common base,
a man behind me, back to back, sips coffee
and spills a story—Spanish syllables
coil and quell like the sea.
I can't tell if the tale's full of gloom or glee,
but the sluice of his voice joins my plunge
into a novel (a man with a secret to reveal).
One more page before heading for Mom's
where, like thread spurred through a needle,
I urge her to swallow pills
neither of us believes
will save her.