Highway to Hip.

Ethiopian beans are ground,

so filled with vibrant life.

A lovely smell my nose has found –

awake the after-life.

The brown remains are soon poured out

into the chamber’s heart

as boiling water is whored out

to heat the inner part.

The tamped-down grounds are introduced

to scalding, steaming rain;

I lick my lips as it’s reduced

to heal the waking pain.

The shot is pulled, and life is formed

within a humble cup.

I take a sip, my soul is warmed –

espresso’s just enough.

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