Poetry

“Coffee Hour” (March 2016)

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I brewed the words in my skull all morning,

watched the letters diffuse,

rich and black,

before pouring them,

steaming,

into my favorite mug.

I held them within my mouth,

tastebuds dissecting the flavor,

peeling coffee molecules

from cream particles

from sugar shrapnel.

I steeped them in my saliva

and exhaled their aroma.

They singed my lips

and caught on my teeth,

condensing.

I sipped them for hours

until they no longer flowed over my tongue

but clotted there,

so that by the time I finally went to write,

the ink of my favorite pen

clung to the innards of the barrel,

and I struggled to connect

my broken lines.

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