Lyle, actually

i was reading your letter again and
i felt the need to tell you
on this poet-ism nightfall;

you are the cappuccino frappe with caramel
whipped cream
and a vanilla wafer that i order from the shop in Wal-Mart;

a thrill in sweet disguise, clever in your silences
rich cream in your laugh;
the ice melts on my tongue as your body to my fingers when we kiss–

i lick the swirls
of cinnamon curl
from your lips.

through the straw (miscommunication) only a portion
of our conversations is sieved, yet still it leaves the wake-me-up
as only coffee can do.

you are my cappuccino frappe
with caramel
whipped cream
and that vanilla wafer is the added bonus
of security in your love for me;

you curl my toes with the pleasure
of yourself and this love,

and sitting here dreaming of coffee and cold kisses
i find i must reply to your letter

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