The Problem Of Bumping Into People Outside Coffee Shops

I told myself I never expected it.
Friend of a friend - bumped into -
coffee shop, shall we?
I don't mind. The conversation
running like dogs in open fields
bounding like the back end would
go too fast and we would tumble.
Mouths open.
Your hand resting on my forearm
to make a point. You watched me
stir my coffee, sip. To everyone
we might have been just friends
except your foot, parked beside
my foot - the edges of the soles
together. And it began when I
got back and he said
See anyone in town?
And I said - No.