#drivethroughwindow

She came home every day Smelling of coffee and cigarettes Working the drive through Watching people drive through And never remember her name.

He always ordered it black, No sugar “There’s nothing sweet about me, baby” She laughed. There really wasn’t.

A mask, a task, Boston sunshine Pouring in like a shower Of forks and knives through The drive through window, Collected and harnessed for functionality

She used to admire the sun-shimmer Off the water of the sea But now she just prayed that The skies be cloudless For sake of her solar-powered smile