By: Ezekiel Oluwasalvage Archibong/ www.africanakua.com, Nigeria
The sky had just began to clear
the misfortunes of the previous night,
pushing forth a fresh morning
that transmits subtle cold
and pleasantries of good tidings.
Swarm of brown-black seeds,
airy aroma that tingles the nostrils.
I whisked a little heap into steaming water,
watching them melt seamlessly into each other,
as they loose their distinct identities.
My hand swizzled deftly
before scooping into my mouth.
The taste lay on my lips like a song
and left my tongue basking in foreign fantasies.
One sip and I’m in self-destruct.
Its warmth slithers in between,
titrating into the cells.
For I realized the day will be prejudiced
without a cup of coffee.