Six years and I still shudder
I would close my eyes for a minute and see it
I remember the metallic taste of the silver ware
The agonizing muddying look of the concoction
As it swirled around in the poorly washed cup

I really doubt I would have minded much
You see, the water was too much
The cheap chocolate flavored powder too small
It made me think of Oliver Twist
Of the grave injustice on mortal men

I still have nightmares about the kettle
The way she would shake it with a vengeance
And turn it carelessly into the cups
The waiter serves me my coffee and I almost scream
I can see her trying to get all cups to be even

I suppose all of my nagging would be void
If we didn’t get to see the undiluted contents at the base
The way the black residue stared back at me; daring me
No matter how many times I tried to convince myself,
I believe that chocolate should not leave residues

I stare at the cup in front of me
It has gone cold whilst I reminisced.
It is all brown and smug
I wonder if this is how cold coffee looks
I call the waiter concerning the bill

My brain is messing with me.
I swear the chocolate drink winked at me.