Second Cup

She stands in the doorway

twisting, turning, and stretching,

intent on informing me of her decisions.

A velvety-smooth approach

I’ve delighted in many times.


“I think I’m going to have a second cup of coffee,

and stay in my pajamas a while longer.

I hope you’re okay with this?”


“I think you would be foolish not to,” I say.

“The best thing about knowing you’ll have a second cup

is it makes the first cup that much more amazing,

because you know you’re going to do it again.”


She smiles in her lovely way,

thankful for the factual silliness,

acknowledging the wisdom shared.


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