(short/untitled 2 - coffee)

dandelion.drafts

The slow tapdance of your

fingertips on the coffee mug, impatient

 

for the ceramic to cool

just a few degrees more

 

so that you may clutch it tightly,

this favored vessel for

 

the beverage that reincarnates you

every morning –

your fingertips

 

settle

 

and yawn away,

settle

 

and yawn away,

 

 

begging the mug:

 

“Now?

 

"How about now?

 

"Please, now -

I am ready to awake.

  • Author: dandelion.drafts (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 5th, 2024 21:10
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 9
  • Users favorite of this poem: DeadRose
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