She does like cocoa...
She sits.
Steaming mug.
Froth rising to the lip.
Marshmallows and...
Melting cream.
Powdered art.
She smiles.
She does like cocoa.
He sits.
He waits.
In silence.
A furtive glance,
She shifts,
Uneasy.
Takes a sip.
She does like cocoa.
He sits.
He waits.
In silence.
Why?
Why is he here?
Again?
So close...
Too close.
She seeks escape,
But...
She does like cocoa.
He sits.
He waits.
In silence.
What is that?
Tobacco?
Sandalwood?
She's caught off guard.
She thinks...
She tries so hard.
She finishes her cocoa.
Faded memories
Grip her heart.
He smells...
So good.
She lifts her gaze...
Their eyes meet.
"Mom, it's me Daniel..."
"D-a-n-i-e-l..."
Each letter,
In soft caress.
Thoughtful prose.
Her face soft,
Eyes bright,
Lips parting upwards,
In a smile.
Hands gentle, warm, wrinkled
Safe within his own.
A perfect fit.
He wipes the tears,
Gently from her face.
The moment is theirs alone.
And then,
As quickly,
It is gone.
Forgotten.
She stares,
again.
Restless...
Her eyes dart.
Seeking comfort...
Elsewhere.
Both
Again,
Separate.
Alone.
He pays the bill.
"Same time tomorrow, sir?
"Yes please..."
He looks away,
Swallows hard.
"She does like cocoa."
Photo credit: [Erin](https://www.pexels.com/photo/food-wood-dawn-coffee-7994278/)ood-wood-dawn-coffee-7994278/)
Oh gosh this is really sweet. I thought it was a bit of a moment between lovers, but the fact you tagged it alzheimers helped me put it together. Funny how food and music can connect us to life to life. The line 'Mom, it's me, Daniel' had me catch my breath!