I don’t think you know the extent of my affections. Everything about you–your enticing scent as it fills the kitchen, the warmth on my hands as I cradle your dark goodness in my favorite mug, the bitter jolt of caffeine as I sip you, oh precious liquid!
The anticipation as the coffee/blood ratio becomes increasingly one-sided, transforming from scarlet to earthy brown.
Cut me: I bleed Gevalia.
Oh coffee, my love. Let me count the ways. You just keep being you, sweet thing, and we’ll keep this love affair going until the pour the beans into my coffin.
Miss! I’ll be needing a refill soon. Don’t make me wait–it’s not pretty.