Black Coffee: reminiscence

Like drinking black coffee,
in an Italian cafe,
you tasted so sweet on my tongue,
going down my throat.
When I thirsted for your essence
you filled me without hesitation.

Walking through an archive
filled with faded dreams,
your voice blurred words before me
with the thought of you inside me.
I reached out to touch your strength-
you led the way, I followed.

Like walking in cool rain
through a lakeside village,
you left me damp and trembling,
then rekindled my fever.
When I shivered beneath your touch
you filled me with your warmth.

As thunder rattled windows
in this unfamilar world,
you thrust your way into my soul,
constant and unwavering.
When we thought the storm had passed
still it came, rumbling in the distance.

Again, my world is grey,
here, sitting at my desk.
I still feel you flow within me,
beneath aching fingertips.
When the emptiness grows too intense,
I’ll sip black coffee: reminiscence.