Bitter coffee

in poetry •  7 years ago 

I'm the pale traveler getting lost
swimming weak on the outskirts luat
see the painful father carve stone curtain one by one sent to the land of the head of stone, made it the golden bed of coffee beans where the mother's body flavor encounters

I'm the innocent traveler stunned
watching a grand ceremony without a spell, dancing holy in the yard of the coffee bean home crushed crushed gulp, surrendered to your porselor cup

coffe-2269724_1280.jpg
pixabay

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