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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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make the coffee,
this morning, my love, is black and bitter like yesterday the rocks spill their tears in the wind this morning is not begun and, yet, it's done make the coffee, my love, this morning I want to stay awake forever-- not black, not bitter, not sweet: tasteless, like the ruins of last night. this morning is endless because I didn't say I love you I forgot how to speak the language you know; but words, like coffee, can be black and bitter. do not ask me to speak... just let me smell the coffee...so make the coffee, do not go to work this morning, my love will stay awake forever.
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