I started the coffee hours ago
Then went back to bed
Letting it steep
A little too long
The grind a little too fine
Hot and waiting in the press
I never got so distracted
During mornings waiting for coffee
Until you came into my life
Hands tracing paths
Fingers finding souls
Mouths speaking without words
Hours later curled up and satiated
Our coffee is going to get cold
“The coffee is cooling
We might consider moving”
“There is something to be said for that”
And then fingers start tracing souls again
The coffee cooling on the counter