the monotony
of frap
after frappuccino

after frap,
sloshing flavored syrup
up my arms
and fingers sticky with caramel--

we run like hamsters
round & round
and don't stop
'til we're dead--

You put down my drink
complete with four straws,
exhaling a nervous ramble
of rehearsed words.

You told me that you
'didn't know what colour
would be my favourite so'
you 'put one in of each.'

I looked down to see
one yellow, one blue,
one pink and one green
dismissing you with a thank you,

but I wish I instead
would of stopped you
and told you for future,
my favourite is yellow.

Voices blurring
Secrets passing
Dripping through
the coffee filters.
Pooling in
heatproof glass.
Relationships being built
strengthened
raising to new levels
like steam on hot milk.
Stories woven
like the skilled baristas.
Not missing a beat,
not spilling a drop.

dizzying drips in the espresso's wake
pool of foam on the counter's face

facade of daily blather
hiss of saucer's edge
rusty change scattered loose.

in this,
I find the mystery of human use.

what we're for
why we're there

the arm that pours
the lips that curve

the standing, tired legs that shout

"I serve."
"I did it." and

"I'm  f**ing out."

This door leads you right
where you are.
Scents and sights arriving
here are affirmation
of dying chemistry
between you and the world;
Therefore you sense them
stronger than man ever
has. Prophecies melt for
this inhuman moment, not
Unfamiliar to your spirit.

The Barista cooks you a
liquid meal, a brat hums
your favorite tune, but the
aftermath is they all leave.

Through a door which leads
them back again.

Daughter, son
Whatever  sensation
keeps them here with me
keeps you standing
stagnant
Ungasping, in need of
Gasping. A goner,
secret front-runner
This door leads you right
to yourself.
Scents and sensations
locked in our fish-eyes
Relinquish blindness, as is
your job.

Big sister,
You smell like coffee....
but I showered twice!!