Coffee with soul

Forearm compressed into the fist,
propping up the shoulder
and the chin;
the steady equilibrium of the thought
flicker of the moment,
between the palpable horizon
and the unconsciously sipping,
of the black aroma taste
of Jacobs coffee;
cuts off the sporadic degrees 
of liberty and concentrates
a lost soul at
only one line of access,
in the curl of the delirium 
with the beginning and the end overlapping,
leaving questions without answers,
unfound in the muddy grounds.

~ Cretu ionel ~
Traducere ~ Septembrie 23, 2012 BuzatuRanch, Ca