The cricket in my hand
Lightened up the soft stick of mine,
The coldness in my throat
satisfying my golden oath.
That green thingy touches my mouth
caress my lips and swirl my tongue.
Gray are the ashes follows the wind
Going to know were I can never hid.
Black are the coffee beans
tranquilizes my feelings
loud talk with fellas
as if no one can hear us
wet are tissues in me,
more plants, more planets Starbucks Coffee.
