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She sits silently on her thrift store shelf,
Her handle cracked and rim worn rough.
Coffee stains make their way up her walls
And drown her white hope in guilty stains.
Filled up with that bittersweet taste forever
And never able to ever forget that flavor.
He flecked and faded coat collects dust
And absorbs the rays that once met her gloss.

His eyes feel the weight of her imperfections
And see the stains of her used up pleasure.
He feels her scratched sides in his hands
And her cold heart left empty and wanting.
His hands are pierced by her broken frame.
His heart broken by her depressing decay.
But his arms cradle her collapsing body.
His whisper tells her that she's safe here.