Tried To Make Coffee Sound Romantic

You
are my
caffeine.

Do you recall
the times you accidentally
burn the tip of my tongue?
And the days beside
my typewriter
while I was
trying to make something
out of honey and
vanilla-flavored biscuits?

Do you remember
the sunrises
we follow
and the rainy days
we intentionally
left our umbrellas for?

How about the
long hours of work?
The non-stop banters
of our boss?
The blurry lines
of our computer screens?
The hunger seeping
through our bones?

Perhaps, you don't.

You don't like sugar,
you want it lukewarm,
a buzzing bee cup
with a quotation inscribed.

I want more sugar,
I want it cold,
a Captain America mug,
always forgotten
to be washed right after.

Do you recall
the times you intentionally
burn the tip of my tongue?
And the days beside
my typewriter
when it was
tiring to make something
out of honey and
vanilla-flavored biscuits?

Caffeine,
you are not
mine.