Coffee Grinds and Dancing Dragons

Curled my hand into a claw at her insistence,
palm down against the table

Ready to receive her reading once
my jagged hand turned over-
not before

"Cupping the Universe" she intoned,
although it gets fuzzy now

She warned me away from the "red dragon"
with a vehemence that vibrated bone
Rich brown eyes
drilled deep, emphasizing dire unravelings
should we ever meet again in the flesh

Giddily, I thought-
Man, that's epic

My mind's eye saw
two dragons at war in the same soul,
like roller coasters always encroaching, never colliding
I thought-
Well, if there's a green dragon too, he can't be that bad

But even I could see
the red dragon wins this time
There is no place in between such a dance

Wrinkled hands,
nearly matching her eyes in tone,
caressed the length of my fingers,
seeing,
not sure what

Timeline? Fate?
A dire need for moisturizer?

At yet another dramatic uttering,
I loosed my hand and rapped my head against table
in frustration
She insisted I claw my hand again,
tut tutting when turned over once more

Angrily rubbing a mixture of
dirt and coffee grinds into my skin
(Is there a pot of that handy?)
she stared hard once more

Proclaimed a past lover
would have always strayed,
no matter how much was given

Something released in my shoulders-
I knew precisely who and what she meant
(No dragons needed to coast my mind for that one)

Suddenly, grip relaxed-
her final admonition,
(or perhaps a blessing)
"You have a lot of mahogany.
I cannot see past the
fluctuations in the grain."

Not sure if I'm flabbergasted or fascinated,
Not sure if I can look at coffee the same way again

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