Splattered Dawn

The mug tipped, slow motion betrayals

of bitter warmth—

coffee floods the cracked linoleum,

cream swirling into the dark,

a slick pool spreading like a bruise.

The toaster waits, cold, silent,

as liquid reaches its edge,

a small chaos before the day unfolds,

a moment spat out

between the hum of a waking kitchen

and the scrape of rushed feet.