Second Cup, First Truth

[Verse 1] One twelve glowing on the microwave, rain folding softly past the kitchen screen. The first cup cooled beside your open hand, a dark ring where our easy words had been. I kept arranging sugar into lines, making little roads I would not choose. You said my name without a question mark, and left enough quiet for the truth. [Pre-Chorus] No grand speech, no door about to slam, just the ceiling fan and where I am. [Chorus] Second Cup, First Truth, I have been making distance look like room. Second Cup, First Truth, every careful silence flowers too soon. Let the bitter settle with the sweet; I am here, and I am listening. [Verse 2] You turn the handle toward the safer side, steam lifting silver through the amber light. I tell you how I vanished while I stayed, how being almost honest felt polite. Your thumb keeps time against the chipped white rim, the smallest rhythm holding us in place. Outside, the first bus wakes the avenue; inside, I finally meet your gaze. [Bridge] If repair begins this quietly, let it begin without a guarantee. No polished promise, nothing dressed as proof, only what is tender, plain, and true. [Final Chorus] Second Cup, First Truth, I will not make distance look like room. Second Cup, First Truth, leave a little light for what comes through. Let the bitter settle with the sweet; I am here, and I am listening.