Second Coffee

It's the second cup because the first one was too good to rush past. The camp collar is open, the olive pants have room to breathe, and the loafers are already on. You got dressed at some point, you just don't remember trying. The silver is quiet. The watch is real. There's a scent on your wrist you kept reordering without overthinking it. This is the part of the morning that belongs entirely to you.

You're not in a rush. You were never in a rush.