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.

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