Morning
Coffee
by
Victor
Coffee
cups -
Pretentiously
tantalising;
Sometimes
abrim,
Oft
void and chill.
Mean,
so mean in stature.
Can
satisfy the thirst
Of
such as I?
No,
never!
Coffee
mugs -
Round
with bow'd bellies
And
flowered skirts
Of
nubile nymphs
With
tropical allure.
Falstaff
in earthenware -
Unashamedly
capacious
And
in drag!
Exotic
perfumes rise,
Strong,
deeply magical;
Thickly
dark to
Eager
nostrils.
Mocha
thy name,
An
incense known
At
Turkish shrines.
Even
Allah swoons.
Taste,
ah, taste -
The
tongue awaits
And
arches high.
Its
buds slow dance
A
piquant sarabande
In
reverent anticipation.
Libation
raised on high,
The
rite's begun.
Taste,
ah - damn!
The
cursed handle cracks.
Waves
of ebon nectar
Lap
my feet.
Tongue
falls to
Parted
teeth and lips -
Swift
fades the vision;
Buccal
orgasm shatter'd.
Copyright © Victor
1991
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