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Deploying the brittle to adhere, waiting...complacently.
by Jared OrlandoShe lies dormant until I touch her,
Until I arouse her,
In the early morning hours.
She's not alone for too long.
I'll fill her with my blackness
Just to drain her down
And she brews such constant drips
Mercilessly crying for attention-
She is my adrenaline.
Softly touching my tongue
When I need her most.
She's a familiar taste
Of open eyes and cleaner slates.
I don't need her when she's empty
But she's my everything
For at least 30 minutes a day.
06/02/2009 Author's Note: I sometimes drink my coffee black.
Posted on 06/02/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kris Mara on 06/02/09 at 03:22 PM great passion and heat throughout...works well for the coffee (reality) and as an analogy (I love when it works out that way) |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 06/02/09 at 03:50 PM Wow, man. Time for me to get a refill. Whew. Don't know that I'll ever look at another cup of black coffee the same. Great writing! |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 06/02/09 at 07:08 PM There's such a great, understated fury to this, and it really comes through most of all in those perfect last two lines. Awesome. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 06/03/09 at 02:00 AM I love the sensual nature to this relationship with coffee. I do not drink it, but I hear friends talk about it like I feel about chocolate. |
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