Nicotine Breeze

Cappuccino.
sweet cup of cream coffee
reaching for my lips
shattered to pieces
at my feet in bits.
Unintended break.
Brown cinnamon,
staining uncommon
shapes and shadows
on lime-green walls
and once happy white floors.
Won’t you sweep the blood pouring
while I salvage broken china
and weep to absent gods?
Never mind,
the cash register is calling.
Cappuccino –
now cold and staining my feet
dance on my lips not meant to be.