He smiles at her
as she deliberates
between muffins

and when she gets her coffee
there is a heart on top
the way they do it these days,
floating in foam
like those airplanes
that use paraffin oil
to write marriage proposals
in the sky.

Not that he wants to marry her,
it isn’t that kind of smile.

Just a mellow flirt
on a foggy morning
in a big city.

She’ll tell her husband about it later
he’ll pull her close
and demand an answer

was it blackberry
or bran.