The coffee spilled, an unsteady table,
Drying ring that gets darker at the edge
The sleep that lingers long in my red eyes
Creases from my bed
Still mapped along my arms and stubbled face
Contrasting sharply with the rest of the room
Where mothers sit with children
Businessmen eat lunch dressed in suits
I exhale an ellipses and a question mark
The things I have to say
The assurance this will work
The shadows of doubt start to swell into an audible cry