My lips meet the rim of the mug,
warm and waiting,
I sip the brown brew,
dark as longing,
softened by a curl of cream,
a whisper of sugar
melting into the heat.
The creamy sweetness clings
to the edges of my lips,
lingers,
like your last kiss,
still echoing softly
against my mouth,
as if time hadn’t dared
to wipe it clean.
Bitterness surges beneath the surface,
a sudden rush,
sharp like the ache of distance—
but the frothy top,
gentle and sweet,
covers it all
like a smile worn bravely
over the quiet ache.
Just like my heart,
happy in memory,
even as it carries
the weight of your absence.
Soft.
Creamy.
Sweet.
Still smiling
in the face of the dark.
©®Madhumita
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