Staring out the window as people popple and froth over the paved streets,
She begins to create a vortex in her creamy coffee,
Her arm whirling a teaspoon that scrapes and tingles against the ceramic cup
She’s forgetting to drink from.
She wishes she could taste the crowd’s different blends,
And percolate through their thoughts,
But for now, all she does is create more forceful currents of steam,
Escaping
Blandly,
Idly,
From her mind.
