lukewarm mug cupped in two hands
holds coffee that I never touched-
its warmth gave me comfort
while it lasted and now
the lingering scent just
tickles my nose- irish cream-
absently, I take a mouthful
and am suddenly reminded
just exactly why coffee is best when warm-
with a small sigh
I pour the contents from the
glassy bluish grey stonewear
and pour myself another
as my heart takes a deep breath
and lets it all out heavily,
never to inhale again~
I probably won't have more than a sip,
but at least I'll have warm fingers
for 20 minutes or so...
don't you hate it when
you have so much to say
you can't speak?
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