Enough
Enough coffee to fill their cups, black as a pupil dilated by need, steam lifting like ghosts that once believed in me.
I just want to be enough, that is all. I say it into the cup and the cup says it back with a mouthful of teeth.
I am measured in teaspoons of mercy. I am poured and poured until the pot is ringing empty, until my hands smell burnt, until the morning keeps asking for more morning.
Enough is all I want to be. The warm animal middle where mouths stop searching.
In the dream, I am a cupboard that keeps opening itself. In the dream, they drink me and call it love.
My name floats on the surface, a thin skin of oil, rainbowed and breakable. Someone stirs.
The cup is lifted. The dream drinks me. The dream never says thank you.
I disappear mid pour.
enough
enough
That is all.