I thought of that cup
The one I bought from Ikea, all greenly gold and new
The one I drank my morning brew in
The one that saw coffee swish within its China skeleton
Like a dinghy at water park.
My lips fat and swallowing, teeth chinking against the sides
It took us months to get through that giant bag of Costco coffee
The beans floated to the top, never ending
And everyday I’d start my morning with that pastel green cup
Finger my iPad
And wriggle my way into consciousness.
Talking to my pillow. 