Let the kiss of which I plant
upon the soil of my coffee beans,
Be rooted strongly unto my cup;
As its warmth insulates my heart.
That of which awakens my
morning during the night
as the feeling travels through
the holes of my veins
like a ray of sunshine reflecting light
through a glorious prism.
It is truly the alarming feeling
that scrambles the egg of our innocence
and toasts to our burnt dreams.
Yet, butters us up for the meaning
of pure morning love.
Without quenching the thirst of the
Nor moving the anchors
beneath our foot.
© Phethile Dhlamini