The handsome gentleman took the latte from me and walked up to the small stage. He sat on a stool and tapped the microphone, then began to recite, from memory rather than from a card.

"Passionate purple
Color of flowers
Of the night sky
Of the emperors
Mysterious temptation
Promising nothing
Enticing imagination
Color of my desire"

I looked at the beautiful woman in purple to see her reaction. A smile was at the corners of her mouth. Did she know the man? Or had he made up the poem at the sight of her?

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Thank you, sir, may I have another?