Coffee Break

By Justine C. Tajonera

I bring a couple
of coins to
the pantry
for my vendo
machine coffee,
thinking of
the long commute,
the dark skies
outside,
all the people
I'm not talking to.
There are wide open
spaces
outside the
rows of
boxes here.
My mind splits,
reduces,
curls into
a tendril of
smoke.
I am this point
now, forming
on the blankness,
a line
extending
into a glowing
red horizon.
No cube
can contain
me.

(Sept. 22, 2009)