cafes, byways, and highways

I have flown from bus stop to rest stop
to dark highway to gravel road,
from your mouth
to my grave and back again.
Lies in my back pocket, promises
clutched in hand.
Ribbons to once-was
worn in my hair.
Back to the front and around to the
shore, clockwise and frontwise
never quite getting free with my notions.
Picking up along the way, such scavengers
as lust and greed
love and need.
Leaving behind a trail of myopic bread crumbs.
Morsels of mistakes.
Truthfully,
no matter where my soul is
my not so discreet looks and thoughts
are cast in your far away direction.
I just want a good cup of coffee
and an artful exchange.