Sea Foam Latte

She needed water and sunshine like a wilting plant.
He never was much of a gardener.
She craved the rain and it's pitter-patter.
He loathed the gloom that mother nature could bring.
She pleaded him to find a space where they could both be happy.
He liked his concrete jungle and all the amenities.
She threatened to find peace.
He warned her to not go looking for the light.
She left, got lost on the subway, had to call for rescue.
He smiled, hoping she had gotten it all out of her system.
He left for business far away, all the fixings.
She gathered her canvas bag and hitched a ride to anywhere the sun shined.
She died on the beach, in the sunlight, with a cigarette in her hand and sea foam at her feet.
He fixed himself a latte with extra foam in his hotel suite, and rested peacefully.