Rumination

You and me: in the mess hall, sharing stories.
The warmth of your smile surpasses rising heat from my coffee.
And yours is ten times the intensity.
I don't care for sugar, but you?  You like it sweet-I prefer cream.

We exchange the exciting and mundane of our days.
We make jokes, teasing Harry and Paris, passing the hours in mutual delight.
Neelix is sure to keep the caffeine coming as our conversation carries into the night.

I've gotten used to your habit: the one where you follow me to my place.
The small talk begins to dwindle and you're tired, I hear you say.
We've spent a two lifetimes as orphans, Chakotay: 
One as outcasts and another wasted as renegades.
When you look at me like that, with that certain fondness,
How can I not be tempted to ask you, please, if you'd like to come in?

blw 2002