Poem of the week a day late. 
goldenbabe - the_coffee_shop
 
Jan. 27th, 2009 | 08:59 am 
 
Coffee
by Maureen O’Connor

I want it hot,
a powerful boiling gift
to lick my tongue
bitter black or
sweet smooth with milk,
essential like water
or life’s blood.
I need it to
percolate my endorphins,
stimulate my senses,
caffeinate my sensibilities
and wake me,
like a good lover.
Then it leaves me
wanting more,
hot.
 
 
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 4 of the customers - Pour a cup