“ That’s what This is for.” And if there’s nothing more
then I’ll have at it. Lapse into to a vigorous coma
of devotion. divining my purpose from the soil
beneath your feet, like a zealot from Coolsville-
just a touch in my cup of Hennessey
and leaning into comfortable.-
all the while
watching you steep tea with your eyes far off on a tangent
that must be beautiful. And-
Come morning we’ll have sleep waffles
and murmur our dreams
into java, with our hair disheveled
as our bed
and our happiness glowing
as we yawn.

Adore.