A poem by Navyo
Coffee is a cruel mistress.
She lifts you up in elevated grandeur
to become Master of a world
where anything is possible,
doting you with kisses
of supreme confidence
as you rise in her hands.
Yet this mighty elevation is but her whimsy
and soon the heights so cherished
become a shocking vertigo
as you plummet into the pit of depletion,
exhausted from her triumph.
Until the next day
when you hear her call,
her whisper of assurance,
her temptation.
And such is today.
Her scent enticed me
across the threshhold
from whence there is no return.
Here in Caffè Torino,
all is sumptuous elegance
fit for the King I am about to become.
She has beckoned me into her lair
to sup her dark and wicked juice.
Poem and photo by Navyo – facebook.com/navyoericsen
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