Coffee

I have never been one for coffee,
But if my mother made me a cup,
It would taste of regret
And memories brewed in a bitter blend.
Each sip swallowed with a sigh,
each moment stirring emotions with blood
A taste of longing, a bittersweet sensation.
A bitter warmth that lingers on the lips.
Fragments of bitterness dissolved
in between my mother and I
As we sip and share tales of love and pain,
the brew that binds us, yet never the same.
©5braincelz