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