The feel of brown skin swirled around the cup of hands.

With lips soft and full.
I too melt in a passionate place.
With taste of something warm and comforting.
It's hard to rearrange something as divine as touch.
The groove of lips stir such emotion in body and mind.
Setting it priority, forgetting to stand in a moment of euphoric proportion.
An eclipse follows in steady motion.
Without use of sugar or cream.
I stood in a flood of on going cries.
Stained by the rise of steam bold enough to claim where we've stood.
Stained in our essence, her essence.
The depth of her eyes.
A constant motion of sights sitting still.
It's unfortunate, the people whom stand in line.
Their misuse of foam cups, soy blend extracts.
Love shouldn't be diluted with sweetness readily made available.
But instead in consistency.

Rising like steam