Tumbler

Your smell
uplifts me instantly; it draws me to you.
Your beans. Your grounds. Your brew.
I can hear the pitter patter as you drip
slowly through the open lid into the pot.
I grip the handle and lift over the heated
surface. Scratching along the raised lip.
You bubble in the glass; you’re so hot!
I pour you over until you’ve exceeded
the top. You rush in encircling the low
bottom of my tumbler, gurgling as you
fill up to the almost top. Leaving room
for cream. You sit, staring with a glow
as I stir you to perfection. Sips ensue
once our lips touch. The day resume.