Foamy like sponge,
Yet not as cushioned
Tarnished on its imperfect rim,
Coffee coloured, but bread-crust brown
That kissed the caramel skin of my upper lip
With a hint of vanilla inhaled.
I savoured every sweetness that melted into the tip
Of tiny little buds of my pink and porous tongue
Let my throat subtly squeeze
At the pleasure of prickly bitterness
Warmth invades my chest,
And tumbles away to my insides
As I daintily released from my fingertips
The archness of porcelain white,
I wilfully let its clinking chime harmonize-
With the cacophony of the ambiance
As the cup is embraced by the saucer,
I embraced blissfulness.
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