Coffee Shop Windows
Looking through coffee shop windows,
I appear to stare at you.
I’m not counting your empty cups,
Nor how many cakes you’ve bit into.
I’m not peering through.
I am too busy gauging my reflection’s identity.
Does she have any prosperity?
I wish I knew.
In response to the penultimate “windows” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
Image credit: pixabay.com
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