Staring at the coffee,
I stirred the foam into oblivion.
I enjoyed getting lost in the dark,
frothy whirlpool formed through the subconscious motion.

Sometimes I would let it sit there,
wouldn't drink it at all.
Sometimes I'd let it get cold
and heat it up again in the microwave,
often burning the roof of my mouth.

Often, this would happen two or three times a day.
But it never didn't not happen.