I am the first to arrive.
I find the table in the corner.
The wood one with the loose grain and medium stain
and cracks that run its length.
I burrow down here through many layers of care.
My coffee cools.
At 7:15 I see the first bluing of light between the building blocks.
I believe I arrive at acute consciousness.
She has one silver earring touching a raised shoulder
pushed up from folded arms resting on a wooden table like mine.
She says, it is Monday my dear,
I urge you toward simplicity.