Last night, I was with some friends at Starbucks, Festival Mall. We were happily telling stories, and doing some commiseration with another friend that has a problem while sipping on frappes.
Sitting there, I remembered my blog, and I was thinking of a new post about coffee when I remembered an old poem that I wrote with the word "Starbucks" in it.
Even then, all I can think of is coffee. However, I think that this poem is really a love poem. Here it is:
Starbucks' Song
Tea steams in a paper cup.
The siren's song is defied by ears,
leaves, and lips that refrain from coffee.
Cigarette smoke swirls.
Sipping from my cup, showing no fear of heat,
should encourage you to hold my hands.
Breath is blown out.
My eyes encouraged your fingers.
Tea leaves on cup-bottom already foretells good fortune.
Tea steams in a paper cup. Cigarette smoke swirls.
Breath held back, waiting for silence to break,
and Starbucks resumes her song.
From what I can recall, though embarrassing, I think that I was at Starbucks' on a date, and I slid my hand close to the hands of the that person, but she didn't hold my hands. What did you expect happened? Ahahaha! The Coffeeholic became even more bitter about love. Ahahaha! I'm sorry, but it's true. This poem brings out the heartaches. Nevertheless, I'm not putting up my white flag yet. I haven't given up on love even if I've put my heart on cryofreeze. Who might that lucky person be that could thaw out my heart? Ahahaha!
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