Ode to Coffee

     At this stage in life, the leaves have tapered
    away to die—lingering on the branch.
I like to believe you made me grow, I’d like too
     but
This feeling
                is only my heart cracking
     Open.

Sending a thousand black thoughts
                to stain a page.

      Nowadays I gaze in the middle of coffee mugs.
I lose myself in trees
        I allow
        my thoughts to muddle, my eyes to blur
Myself to fade
                   in a splendid
        Stir.

When I try to strain my mind
         a million
                   memories submerge.

So, to spit it out

  at last
  onto your saliva sodden soul—
  When you lashed me with your eyes
         I knew. My favorite wound. Would never
  Heal.

  Your foaling of this one, so permanent, so fleeting:
  Your hand in mine, your hand in Mine, Your Hand in Mine.
  Someday a warm wind will blow the dead things out
but for now,
please

  linger.
Looking Up, Dreaming—