One cup farewell for well-worn fantasies,
a cup as warm as your embrace,
and balanced was the mellow taste
of speckled chocolate, swirling cream,
reminiscent of your vanilla hair
and freckled face.

One cup farewell because that’s life,
as rising steams desist to ice
and bitterness mellowed further,
though lost as well for sleepless night
the soft, sweet notes of beans
delighted by two drinkers.

One cup now drank that earns no envy,
as one farewell was ever one too many.

While with an obvious in mind, the sentiment does generalize. To understand, to know, does not make any easier the thought of letting go. When will I accept?


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