The Sip

Sweet sweat returns this November. I am indoors. The furnace is raising its voice. The back bedroom window shrivels. It has metamorphosed into the lone sugar cube in my coffee cup. It expands in the black liquid. I step into the sip, into the glass, at a loss.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we have all had that lone sugar cube in our coffee cup...
and we have stepped into that sip.
November sure was different this year.
j.