NaPoWriMo: 26


The taste of sound
roasted varnished beans
falling from bag to grinder
like waves eroding intertidal
rocks; the feeling of smell
crushed aroma between
the cool, clockwise weight
of slate painted porcelain;
the color of brewing
volcanic pebble-sized
darkness filtered into
crimped white starkness;
the sound of water
steaming flood hissing
onto paper pools of
chocolate mud;
the pouring from pot to
cup sounds like eagerness;
the first sip—bright, herbal,
sweet, like spiced earth—
the feeling of a full mouth,



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s