Coffee

Hot bitter tasting liquid hitting my tongue
very little trickles down my throat
I can still taste the cherry water from before
I wait as the black liquid cools
that's right black, no creamer or milk for me
Personally I call it a dark rich brown
the color of my dog's eyes
I pick my white mug up; it says lucky
with an ace of spades on it
Slowly brought to my lips,
I blow the steam away with a gentle breath
Licking my bottom lip I take a sip
I roll it once in my mouth so I don't burn my throat
It slides down filling me with warmth