Black Coffee

It's been a while since I've posted any poetry. Honestly, I haven't written much since I graduated, but it is still something that I really enjoy. While flipping through a notebook to begin writing a Bible Study today, I found this poem that I wrote a month or two ago in a coffee shop. I really appreciate how the meaning still connects with me months after I wrote it, and it has even taken on new forms of meaning that I couldn't have had in mind when I wrote it. Such is the nature and beauty of poetry.

Black Coffee

There’s a soft folk song on the radio.
The feminine melody has me wanting to fall in love.
“Sometimes I pray for you” connects deep down
and gives me hope that I’m not alone. Gives
me hope that I’m not the only one longing
to be joined—pulled out of the lonely abyss
to empathy and passion and mirrored selflessness.

I take my coffee black.
B – L – A – C – K
It is the purest color.
P – U – R – I – T – Y

It is the most pleasingly bitter taste my tongue
has ever interpreted. I cannot help but find
sweet comfort in the physical.