Down at the coffee house we lost track of time
where caffeinated talk filled up congested spaces, and the scent of its beans intoxicated us until our minds have well dwelled upon pointless manuscripts.
And from these cups, bitter tastes stain our dry chapped lips foreburnt by old cigarette butts, this dusty satisfaction of old habits.
And under its dim yellow lights onto dark wooden tables, the sounds of Christmas music lulled through raspy speakers, faded out all the kitchen clatter of cups and silver clanking by the washer
I put my earphones in.
But in a sad attempt I could still hear the young man next to me with his sweet bread in his mouth, half trying to swallow its sugar coating, in a feverish attempt at flirting with his guest.
This space is too small
but its emptiness is sorrowful – that we come here to forget, to retreat, to escape our own solitude and fill our days with copious doses of an inevitable void when we lie awake at night wishing we didn’t consume it all.
Location: 5extracts, Itaewon, Seoul