Obrigado

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I'm in a little piece of Portugal on the west end of the old city
Time has not stood still here, but it hasn't moved too far either, though the motorized heating fan warming me on an upside-down milk crate would not have been here when the old lady
I'm sharing the table with,
left her parents behind
Her husband makes room for my coffee cup, passes me the sugar in an act of friendship, I pour some into my spoon and stir it in
I'm the outsider. I take a picture of my fare for my love to see
His own sits beside him
They let me be part of their comfortable silence. None of us need to talk to be present
The lady behind the counter asks me, pointing at my coffee to negotiate what she perceives as a language divide, "is good?"
I smile and give a respectful thumbs up, unwilling to break the loving silence I am now a part of.

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