I buy you every morning at the same place.
They know me there, and have the cup
ready before I even approach the counter.
Some days the subway acts up, and I run
so late that I don’t have time to pick you up.
We categorize those days as being “bad.”
Life without you, coffee, wouldn’t be a life at all.
It would be: a terrible fog, a slow-motion movie
about the wind, the world’s driest muffin
choked down with a paper cup of warm water.
It would be me actually kicking a trashcan
after yelling at a fax machine when the truth is
I’m the one who keeps dialing the wrong number.
I need you, coffee, and I don’t think that part
of our relationship is unhealthy. It’s good to need
things in your life and I need you, morning cup
of coffee, I need you so much. You don’t even know.
Look at me! Look at my eyes! Do you see how serious
I am? Coffee, I would take a bullet for you. I would
wear your burns like a badge of honor. I would punch
a tea bag in the face, and not shed a single tear.
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