Black Coffee

I take my coffee pure:

Black as night,

Dark as sin,

Bitter like regret,

Biting like pain,

Deeper than the sea

Hotter than the earth's core.

I like not being able to see the bottom of my cup as I watch the steam curling from the surface.

Then I drink it.

And burn my tongue.

And as I sit there miserably sucking on an ice cube, knowing that I won't be able to taste anything properly for a few days, I think that, maybe, it could use some sugar.