sexta-feira, 3 de janeiro de 2014

The coffee cup

It arrived beside me
Warm and delighting
The lips and tongue approached
As sneaky as a poacher

The steam rose up as the mouth bore down
The cup was empty before the sugar could drown
Caffeine hand patting me on the back
The remains were sweet and black

One degree more awake
One more sip for coffee bean sake
Another line of Simon Elliott's poetry
Another cup of expresso coffee.

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