Beyond the Brew

It’s not just the cup, that chipped mug on the counter,

where steam rises awkwardly, a soft gray cloud,

but the ritual that lingers, warm on fingertips,

between bites of sweet pastry and laughter

spilling like cream, filling the air, a shared moment,

where even a mess, a drink knocked askew,

becomes part of the comfort, a part of us.

Each sip is a pause, a tiny rebellion,

a dance in a world where time ticks too loudly,

and we find solace in the jitter of caffeine,

the way it nudges our dreams awake,

allowing us to breathe between sentences,

as we sip, we savor, we hold on a little longer.