he brings cold water

he remembers

me,

the Chinese guy

as i come

back after years

of absence

for something crispy

and sweet.

he's the guy

who pours water

from table to table

never letting

them

go dry.

even after a sip,

he'd be over

with his cold

clear jug of water

and smile,

topping off your glass.

we never talked,

never said a word

to each other,

just a wink and a nod,

but we knew each

better than

i've known life long

friends.