Oceanus

No, we are not by the sea,
my love.
It is not the waves.
It is the sound of the sizzling oil
that I burn for you.

Can you sense it?
Breathe deeply, my love.
Let the aroma in.
Let me in.

No, we are not by the sea,
my love.
But I can feel Poseidon's watchful eyes
observing us.
He sees the perfumed flame.
He sees us, silhouetted.
He is waiting for our next move,
like a patient spectator of shadow puppets.

What will the next play be, my love?

Coffee

Thirst quencher
eye opener
heart throbber
a social thing
a conversation topic, or
an excuse from conversations.

Cannot live without.

One cup too many,
just one,
leads my hand to
this whole-night vigil.
Cold sweat.
Headache.
Poison.
Deliberate.
Slow.

--By Nelden Djakababa