Steamed Mug, Unasked

Came in, just tossed the keys

onto the counter, watched them freeze.

Saw the scrap, three scrawled words,

not much to say, not much was stirred.

But then the mug, still hot and full,

exactly right, no need to pull

a single thread of wanting.

Just given, without haunting.

The steam kissed my face,

a sudden warmth, a gentle space.

My fingers burned, a quiet sting,

this simple, unexpected thing.