Poetry by | October 19, 2008

My coffee is slowly losing its warmth,
so I dipped my finger inside the cup.
The coffee’s warmth surrounds my finger,
as if the coffee is breathing on my finger.
I circle my finger around the mouth,
cleaning all the brown-black stains.
I lift my finger above the cup
and from my fingertip comes a coffee bead.
I let the coffee bead fall into my tongue
Surprising—it is still warm.
It is sour, for salt and bitter taste from my finger,
the sweet of sugar had all combined.
I slowly lift with both of my hands the bottom of the cup.
I lick around the mouth of the cup.
But it’s cold already.
I put my finger again.
It’s so cold, it’s dry.

Jasper Nikki de la Cruz is a senior writing student at UP Mindanao

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