Morning Comfort in a Cup

Morning light, coffee steam, kitchen quiet and slow. He hums while

he's pouring, like he's done so long ago. She walks in with sleepy eyes,

wrapped in his old tee. He reaches for the creamer, smiling soft and

knowingly. One, two, then a third ready

like every year before. "No baby, just two," she says,

"I'm watching my weight, for sure." He stops, hands it over,

proud he honored what she asked. She sips with steady eyes, but her taste

buds fall back fast. He turns away, she breathes in, creamer's already on