We Need to Talk about Caffeine

Each year coffee is harvested during the dry season when the coffee cherries are bright red, glossy, and firm.

Coffee is a woman; a slander, sultry brunette. Stimulating and addictive. Savage but tender.

Oh, sweet coffee,

Without you,

I’d be a lonely cigarette.

Coffee is a ritual; the equivalent of a Shamanic fire ceremony. A private moment, with the purer higher self.

Oh, sweet coffee,

Without you,

I’d be lethargic and sedated.

Coffee is an excuse; to sit alone in a central café with a book in hand, pretending to be interesting.

Oh, sweet coffee,

Without you,

I’d be a raging bitch.

Coffee is a rendezvous; with a friend soon-to-be lover, soon-to-be boyfriend, soon-to-be a voodoo doll.

Oh, sweet coffee,

Without you,

I’d rather sleep.

Coffee is cinema; because agent Dale Cooper likes his coffee black, as midnight in a moonless night.

Oh, sweet coffee,

Without you,

I’d have as many regrets as the coffee spoons I until now had.

“I’d rather take coffee than compliments just now.” – Louisa May Alcott, Little Women