And there’s just something about your coffee stained lips,
the way they feel pressed up against mine
sending me expresso infused rushes of energy,
along with the need to be yours.
The temporary healing of a flaw that only rest can fix.
Each crinkle and dent of your lips filled with the slightest bit of caffeine aftertaste that I need to get through another day. The taste and feeling only few can handle. Coffee stronger than my damaged and bruised heart,
I realize I have an addiction.
You’re my aftertaste.
NHS CoffeeHouse 