The Smell of Coffee

A mind races, What’s under those threads…

Is she warm… Cold or indifferent…

Does she smell of sweet spring?  Where would the road take me if I put her at the wheel?

Making small talk is queer and lame

I want a moan from her mouth,

loudly spoken of my name!

she’s perfectly defective and swallowed whole,

Feeling the deepness of her soul…

Smiles are fake and boring… like the light of a smile…

the war song of her pleasurable screams in early morning…

Faint smells of coffee…

Yet my mind grey and bleak…

So there I sit…

Happily, I shall never speak….

 

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