Double Tall Mocha Latte 

I stumbled down to the kitchen, 

Fumbling for the little white bag­
Before I lift the tab. 

The dark temptress of addiction­
Roasted in Italian bliss, 

Ground with a sinful repetition 
Then drowned in a calcium kiss. 

I clear the wand of its excess 

And bow to the steam on my face­
The milk heats rapid seduction 
To a deep bellowing pace. 

From the maker she drizzles brown 

Into the metal petites-
Then poured over Ghiradelli 
As its stirred with perfect beats. 

I marry the God and the Goddess, 
Like it was meant to be 
And sip away its vircue-
Better than a cup of tea. 

by Kara Taylor 

55