Coffee in a Whiskey Glass

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As I sit here with coffee in a whiskey glass

Hoping for the time spent apart to roll and pass 

Hoping for my wait, the walk through a forest with smoking grass

Patriarchy, the man, running wild, for a prey, not in the distant mile 

Seek for a you, a version of you, maybe you

Their drools swamp the ground as I wait and search, yet not found 

This day you told me, you’d return 

Now it feels like a maybe, with that sun turn 

I sit awake at night, waiting for you to knock on the door 

I could find an island in your arms, poetry in your eyes and I sit here in pain hoping not for a lullaby 

It’s hard to numb the weight of my eyes, same feeling when I’m mesmerised 

Race to the door, please, as fast, as I sit here sipping my coffee in a whiskey glass

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