coffee.black

black as desire

my coffee exposure exceeded its recommended daily allowance, and i showed all the telltale signs of caffeine exhaustion, from impending sense of doom to useless fights with the others, wishing i could snap myself into the center of a forest. my devices and pets were all vying for my attention but she was nowhere to be found. i reluctantly tossed a foamed paper cup with a sleeve into a blue bin at a café, and went sideways into a night, steamwhistle of a pot on a stove, contracting a spirit into a five minute steep of an old reliable, constant comment. what to my dismay, her producers had changed her floral notes, and a memorable song of an early childhood was hummed through the teeth ona variable. i don’t care. tomorrow i’m strikin’ out for the old bean, scarred from the heat and black as desire.

promise

once there was a boy named bee

upon my knee
softly telling me how rivers
did not reach the sea in the year
twenty twenty three
some were black others blue
in twenty twenty two
and none could you wash your
self in
his eyelashes fluttered
feeling me shudder
i could tell
he honestly knew
he unbuttoned my collar
i cried and hollered and then he promised
just breathe
then rolled up our sleeves so carefully
we could see those cuts on
our arms
with one finger
he crossed my lips
tenderly looking into my eyes
and
we existed quietly there
until about quarter past one
bee upon my knee
and me
i wondered if all of the darkness
 he shared
could
     ever
         be
          undone
yet i knew our
                 pain
             was
         the
same
– KatYa, 2017