She likes her coffee black, and laced,
With maple syrup–you don’t understand
how she could take her bitter with so much sweet.
The trails of gleaming sugar lick her hand;
her eyes are dark and coy behind the steam.
She makes you want to take your coffee black, and laced
with chilies, sugarcane, a slice of lemon–
like you could somehow drink her body in:
the sweet, the zest, the heat–her fingertips
are steam as she she sips coffee from your lips.
Admittedly the metaphors are awkward, and I don’t quite like the last line. If you have any suggestions, feel free to comment away! At any rate, this was for a challenge. Prompts were bitter, sweet, spicy, and sour. :)) Figures I’m writing about coffee since I’m pulling my third all-nighter of the week!