I sip you slow
morning, noon, and night.
Sugar and creamer take away
from how sharp you sting my lips.
The way I am easily lost in you.
You settle me, keeping me alert,
even in the moments
I’d rather do other things
or when I’m too lazy to get up.
Regardless of where I am,
you taste like home.
My throat and body
stained in your brand.
Even when I’ve had my fill,
when I see you, I am thirsty.
I hope you understand
that you’re not made for anyone’s
approval, not even mine.
You’re rough around the edges,
even bitter at times,
but these are reasons I love you more.
You’re completely yourself.
Their faces are too neat
for you anyway.
When I taste you,
I realize this is real,
and that this is mine.
When I taste you,
I taste you like you were brewed
just for me
