I feel so warm and coddled like melted chocolate,
dribbling against the mug, split over a counter.
Finger tips freezing as it touches the air.

No reason to cry over spilt milk.
I boil the kettle again, clean the mess I've made and start again.
Throw in the grounded droplets, a dash of powered chocolate,
                                                      ­                                                         'click'
The kettle coughs bubbles. I pour, enveloped by the steam against my skin, a dash of milk.

The perfect coffee.