Black Coffee

I run my fingers through thick curly hair.

Droplets of water form at the ends,

Crisp and light to taste.

Clear brown eyes hold my gaze.

One, Two, Three.

My mind wanders,

I hear highways purring in my ear.

Transporting me away to places far.

Four, Five, Six.

I look down,

Our hands interweaved

I feel warm, rough terrain,

like sandpaper.

Seven, Eight, Nine.

A moment in the present.

Ten.

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