I am your fresh cup of iced coffee
‘Black, no milk or sugar please’
Whose bitterness shocks your tongue and cools the heat buried in your stomach.
I can take you back to your very first room,
Those red walls painted in honour of your favourite team,
And the collection of baseball cards stored safely under your bed.
Whatever went wrong between them changed the walls of your home,
Left dust on your jeans from hiding with the Angels,
And a craving for dark spaces and cold coffee.
Close your eyes, imagine I’m a vanilla latte,
Warming you up slowly, easing you into the day.
Open your eyes, drink me in.