The glass sweats droplets like memories bleed

The glass sweats droplets, like memories bleed,

     slipping away in the hum of the cafe,

     raindrops race down the windows, a speed

     that matches my thoughts when they stray.

Summer's thick air wraps around every sigh,

     I stare at the condensation, wonder what's kept,

     shadows of feelings like ghosts passing by,

     buried in depths where the heart has wept.

I sip from my drink, the ice slowly melts,

     watching the beads cling, as if to my soul,

     a half-empty vessel, like secrets I felt,

     pooling in corners I can't quite control.