One Way Street Via Carlo Alberto

You are my empty street,

Italian coffee beans
strewn
across the sidewalk like cast dice

because--what were the chances?

of two foreign souls brushing shoulders
in such an impossible way
when we are meant to be
merely mutually insignificant brushstrokes
in my story and in your script

I keep thinking of you

as my one-way street to disappointment,

anticipcating for Time to tell

me that our time together meant nothing

Even so, I sip Italian coffee to remember
the feeling of seeing your tapered fingers
wrapped around your coffee cup

and hope Time will nudge fate into telling me
there's a good chance of you and I 
meeting unexpectedly

in another eternal city

for a second time