Only We Would Know

The warm mug at every coffee shop. How many lips have stained this ceramic? The sidewalks strung along miniature cities, and the steps they’ve strayed. How many lives went one block too far, how many missed connections lingering by the street lights. First last kisses hung up overnight in cold breath. Each of us left standing, stirring, gagged in the gutter and wasted on the words we never spoke. Each corner screams its stories, and the signposts sing to sleep. All of this a secret only we would know, looking through the windows lined along the road.