Hot Lovin'

Coffee is almost my life!

I wipe down the front of the cupboard with a water-drenched rag.

The green paint began to chip long before this summer day. 

With a callous hand I grab the porcelain knob, a rose delicately painted.

These shelves are special, yes, containing different stories:

Stacked high and far are several cups--coffee cups galore. 

Each morning I fill a new life story to the brim of one of these,

And touch my lips to the steams of a never forgot liquid.

Each cup, a gift of love, of friendship, of convenience, of desire.

I raise the cup to my face, and smell such bittersweet tales--

The reminder of such times, times when we were so alive.