i long for the first sip that burns the tip of my tongue, only for it to run a warmth right through me.
70% arabica, 30% robusta, and maybe even notes of honey and dried fruit.
i crave it. that lingering flavor of bitterness that remain in the trenches of my salivary glands as caffeine rushes through my veins.
while i watch the morning sun bleed between the interstices of the window screen, i feel myself beginning to recollect my existence.
and just for a brief moment, i pull away from the half-conscious state, inadvertent, inescapable.
it’s just a cup of coffee.