never was i a coffee drinker
but in this ever-changing summer
i suddenly crave in the night of an odd number,
interrupting my slumber to an all nighter.

the city stays asleep
and the night seems to run deep
away from the echoes of reality,
i lay awake, holding a cup of coffee.

ceramic touches my lips,
slowly burning a bit of its tips.
the warmth overpowers reality’s role
as a feeling of comfort arises from my soul.
the bittersweet taste touches my heart
and beauty arises from the world’s
forgotten art.

my eyes that lived in actuality
i finally woke up to see true beauty
and it all started with a sip from a
cup of coffee.