In a calm bistro, as morning breaks,
I sit alone, while the world gets up.
Steam rises slow, in delicate twists,
Murmuring accounts of far off universes.
An espresso mug supported between my hands,
Reflects little looks at life’s requests.
The waves dance, then get comfortable spot,
Showing faint shadows of existence.
In the twirling mix, I see my face,
A mix of dreams, of years, of beauty.
Each taste I take, a memory mixed,
The reverberations of things seen, felt, heard.
The espresso’s glow, similar to recollections past,
Waits delicately, however never endures.
A self-contradicting taste upon my tongue,
Like tunes I’ve lost, that whenever were sung.
I see the streets I didn’t step,
The possibilities missed, the words implied.
In dull reflections, dreams rise,
Of far off stars and overcast skies.
There’s a brief look at affection, of chuckling, as well,
Of kinships profound and minutes valid.
Each taste a story, each twirl a story,
Of delights that blossomed, of dreams that fizzled.
A dream of youth, so striking and brilliant,
That blurred gradually with morning light.
The flash of marvel, the excitement of possibility,
Caught momentarily in espresso’s dance.
Then shadows float across the edge,
Of decisions obscured, of prospects faint.
The existence I have, the existence I look for,
In espresso’s profundities, both strong and distressing.
I see the me I wish to be,
What’s more, the one I am, simply tasting tea.
The lines between develop weak and slight,
Mixing delicately from out to in.
The clock ticks on, the morning blurs,
The espresso cools, the memory swims.
However in this cup, I’ve tracked down a guide,
A manual for dreams I’d left to rest.
Forever, similar to espresso, is rich and profound,
With minutes unpleasant, minutes sweet.
Also, in reflections dull and valid,
I glimpse my heart, I track down my view.
So here I sit, with cup close by,
A visionary lost, a lady arranged.
The world outside, the world inside,
Both blending where my considerations start.
One last taste, one shutting scene,
In espresso’s profundities, my spirit washed clean.
A second gone, an illustration kept,
In calm warmth, where recollections rested.
As I ascend to leave and leave,
The cup presently vacant, the beginning of day,
I convey with me what I found:
Reflections profound, yet all unbound.
For each taste, each twirl and plunge,
Is an excursion taken, a day to day existence very much tasted.
In a straightforward cup, life’s layers show —
Also, I’m right there, with space to develop.
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