like the bits of coffee
i hold in my hand,
you leave a mark of bitterness —
a trace of warmth.

like the sugar i sprinkle
into my stained cup,
you create a tingling sense of sweetness —
a pinch of heartfelt sensation.

in the same stained cup i stare;
into the void drink sitting cold.
bland as a lack of emotion as there can be,
the coffee sits bitter with no taste.

the cubes of sugar stay in their packet
left untouched,
left unsaid.

stirs and stirs,
the coffee stayed tasteless,
the sugar stayed useless,
and my mouth stayed dry.

in that moment i never realised how one
was longing for the other—
like a pair waiting to be meshed.

the sweet entered the bitterness,
and soon,
sparks of flavor dissolved in what was once bland.

it was unthought of that something so dull
and something so wholesome
would create the perfect combination—a bittersweet faith of an uprising.