an ode to a coffee table

there two lovers were,
hand inter-weaved,
around a coffee cup;
the perfume
bonding them in breath;
with their eyes,
they smiled ;
silence carried their words,
the clock struck time
n they left ;
a little more rich,
a little less poor.

the stain of
coffee spilt,
is a story the table
carries,
of lovers lost in time ...