Coffee.
Rain drum-lines the window panes,
rock&roll band of thunder,
and you are cradled in my hands like
you are fire and I am hypothermic
curled up at your hearth.
Your hot porcelain stings
the delicate flesh of my fingertips,
but I brave the pain in return for
warmth that seeps through my rain-soaked bones,
bitter espresso and hot steamed milk
waking my body up from the soft dream sleep
that this weather has lulled me into.
Your mermaid sea foam of sugar
and heat glazes the tip
of my nose, and I
inhale
exhale
the steam, twisting and dancing and rising
angelic from your surface.
My tongue is wary of your caustic
touch, but I sip you
cautiously and eagerly
feeling flames lick my throat as you
set my blood to boil.
This café is a sleeping dragon,
and I am a princess hidden beneath
shields of scales –
the rain is the relentless knight in
shining lightning armor.
But this royalty does not need to be saved,
no, you are my heart’s home
in this dragon café,
you, cafe au lait
drenched in foam and cupped
by snow ceramic –
you are the only savior I need.