drip grind
a grey dawn translucent
silent not even a tummy rumble
bare feet cold on chilled tile
both hands wrapped around my
chipped white cup
i stare into it
down past the rising steam that
heats my face, so close to the edges i bow
looking for the answers to last night
a caffeine crystal ball
my drip grind oracle
Delphi in my kitchen
Saturday, January 14, 2006
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