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Seanathon Nov 2019
Like a purple gem
Found deep within the Earths dark layers
Smooth as sandstone beneath rivers running
Warm as blackened pavement beneath summers sun

So this drink is to me
Most teasing of every sense and self
Which is why this cup cannot be
Most tasteful or worth

She made for me
The Best Raspberry Mocha On Earth
Hers Was The Best Raspberry Mocha On Earth
Yellow light peaking through,
I get to wake up and look at you.
We turn to each other and cuddle close,
nose to nose.
Lines of light strike your eyes...
I can no longer breathe.
Deep brown pools of chocolate,
I wander into your forest eyes and can't find my way out,
I'm lost.
They turn to coffee and then you are there,
standing in the kitchen, no clothes yet,
asking if I need cream for the coffee you made me.
You are coffee.
I need you every morning.
It's hard to live without you.
Wait, not too much cream!
It needs to resemble your eyes.
My feelings about waking up next to him. Also he makes me coffee every morning.
Amanda Sep 2018
You have been my closest friend from the day you were born
Back when you were just a tiny puppy
I promise to always protect and provide
As much love as you have given me
For my dog Mocha
Gale L Mccoy Jul 2018
began with the end of your sentence
the dredges at the bottom of the mocha
fool yourself into thinking
you are not running on less than nothing
accept it doesn’t make sense
read the symbols you find
at the bottom of your reservoir
day 1 of 31 days of poetry challenge
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2018
I swirled in a ocean of brown.
Venting in steam.
My drown overlapped by current
On top of current.
I swirled around and around,
swimming in sugary spec.
I once dreamed of dry land.
Loosing my footing on the edge of a spoon.
The top of a pink packet torn off.
Sprinkled on my head.
There was no sense in fighting.
One single serving brewed.
It was exciting to feel myself swirl,
All I'd ever know.
around and around.
All I'd ever know.
The more I drunk the more evident it became.
The here after in addiction.
Sweet in taste.
My skin dipped in heart of something so delicious.
I swirled around in an ocean of brown.
Her eyes.
Never once did it occur that I couldn't gulp them.
I still tried.
Lost forever in Mocha flavored aroma
Brianna May 2017
It was always that Peppermint White Mocha.
It's so funny that a simple drink... one that I choose every single time.
A drink my friends and I have turned into a small inside joke.
A drink that tastes like Christmas ( which you know I hated) and Joy ( but i was always too pessimistic right?).

A drink that no matter the weather I still choose that one single drink.
Don't get me wrong, I've tested other flavors.
I've tried it iced.
I've tried it blended.
I've tried it at a local coffee shop in every city I go too.
But nothing compares to the original.

Funny how this started with you.
Are we even talking about the drink anymore?
For once
They weren’t hiding
They let their guards down
For once they say how they feel
No second thoughts

She walks in
"Can you guess what I want?"
"Blackberry white mocha, almond milk, iced"
“Yes, exactly”
He says, “Do you know how I know that?”

She gives him two reasons
"You’re a super geniuses who remembers orders
You’re always around when I order"
A solid, "no"
“Well I’m always here, I hope you remember it”

He smiles, laughs
A ****** expression of truth
Not the answer he wanted
She thinks she knew what he was trying to say…
b e mccomb Jul 2016
Lukewarm mugs of
On papery thin

Warm cubes of
On honey wooden

I swear my coffee
Never goes cold.

But this morning I found
You gone.

And there was a
Gray sky on the
Honey wooden table.

Only one cup of
Black coffee on a
Single stained napkin.

Because not just the coffee
No, the whole
Had gone cold.
Copyright 2/17/15 by B. E. McComb
skyblueandblack Jan 2015
It was a quiet afternoon of reminiscing
Nostalgia lingered in the sunlit air
intermingling with the sweet aroma of coffee
as I sipped and leaned back in my chair

He walked up to me as I sat by the window
I waited to see what he wanted to say
“Your skin is the color of my mocha’, he smiled.
‘Just a notch deeper than your café au lait.’

With his jet black hair and Mediterranean eyes
And a physique worthy of a prize winning stallion
His confident air and his subtle smirk
He had to be greek, or maybe a charming Italian

Long hair in a messy bun that didn’t care
jeans ripped in strategic places
His gaze never left my quizzical eyes
obscuring everyone else’s faces

He waited for me to respond
mere seconds since his saunter
Forever engraving in my mind,
This coffee shop encounter…

— The End —