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French Roast

I was just thinking how much I would like to make you a cup of coffee.

In the morning, I'll wake up earlier than you and go to splash my face with ice cold water.

I'll put on your Brian Jonestown Massacre Tshirt, or maybe the sweatshirt you bought me last week.

Then i would make us coffee, in your brilliant white kitchen, when no one else is around.

Your coffee maker is foreign, yet strangely familiar.

You will wake to the strong scent, and I'll be waiting, with two cups of smooth black comfort.

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Written by
shannon-curry
American
Published
Mar 11, 2010
Lines·Words
6·95
Notes

copyright Shannon Curry

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