Beautifully flawed, the cup is chosen with care.
It is simple, refined.

Grinding the cherries,
the aroma fills the air,
tickling the senses.

As potation pours into the vessel,
steam drifts into the air;
the moment of seduction comes
as cup lifts to lips.

Slow, intentional consummation.
Body pleasures the buds,
devoured until spent,
taste sated to exhaustion.
The cup lays empty, beautifully flawed.

Drained of its contents,
silence settles as sleep hastens;
dreams fill the interlude
to lead us through night into morning.

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