I've started drinking coffee.
I could say the bitter taste reminds me of you, of us,
But that would be a lie.
I do it because it's there.
Last meeting someone coughed, "Hot water? Tea?"
I smirked, I couldn't help it,
I revelled in my progress relative to hers.
I am beyond tea.
I take my coffee black, "black as sin and twice as sweet"
The saying goes, but I'm weaning myself from sugar too.
I never cared for cream.
Cafe-au-lait's a bastard child hiding its parentage.
I want to see the bottom when I drink.
You were the one who added milk to your tea, and honey,
And never stirred enough.
The syrup would be there when you left,
Still sticky when I touched the bottom of the cup.
My tongue would catch on the roughness of my skin
As I licked it off. The sweetness.