Hot

I like it hot.

In the morning, with closed eyes. It deepens my breath. It opens my heart. It unfolds wrinkled soul. It smoothens my skin.  I adore the warm whirlpool that enlightens my body. I feel it swirl, raising waves of pleasure. It electrifies every cell of my body.

I like it vigorous. Strong.

I savor it in small instances of pure animal pleasure, all sealed with a sigh.

I throw my head back. My mortal soul dances on divine rhythms. I am enveloped in notes of bliss.

I grow wings. I spread them out.

I leave my body and I float. I slip away to the sunny plains of the ever-sunrise-land.

I open my eyes. Slowly. Enchanted. I witness the miracle of dusk through half-opened eyelashes. I move them slowly. I play kaleidoscope of shapes and colors intertwine in a marionettes’ theater. I smile childishly at the surprising discovery.

I like it long.

I need my time to savor it. To its last moment, to its last drop. I yearn for my whole being to be enchanted.

A whirl of aromas reaches me. It inhabits me. It lures me back to myself.

Its warmth caresses me. I am amazing.

I like my coffee hot, strong, in small sips, early in the morning.

I put the cup aside. The check list for the day is almost complete.

I stand up and I start to live.