foodverses:

Elizabeth Street Cafe

It was all pink bubbles—
evening forgets troubles, sometimes
they dissolve in his eyes.
Noodles twirl between rhymes like strands
of stray hair in her hands.
Hot broth warms, the crowd stands and waits,
a chef perfects his plates.
A macaroon creates surprise,
beautiful in bite size—
nutty flavors reprise and shine.
The finale divine—
a glass of rosé wine doubles.