coffee

i awaken to the familiar scent of

a dark warm liquid brewing in the

kitchen

i hurriedly dress and pull my shoes on

my mom fixes my hair, spraying the floral

perfume i don't like

she adjusts my bow

perfectly—

and i follow her to the kitchen

out of the cabinet she produces

her travel mug

and my sippy mug—

the pink one with the big,

orange button

she then fills both of ours

with the bitter liquid

and puts two scoops of sugar in both

hers, half and half—

and mine, mostly milk

with a dash of coffee

to start off my day in first grade

she swipes on her lipstick

then puts a small dab onto my lips and

gives me one of her bracelets to wear—

for the day

i asked for it— i wanna be just like her

at school i sit

and confer

with my best friends

one with curly hair

and the other with a sweet voice

years later I awaken to my alarm

and fix my coffee in a to go mug

black with sweetener

and walk to class

carrying my enormous book—

coffee on the breath

my phone rings

and I look down

my mom has text me

i send her a picture of me, drinking my coffee

and I know she's smiling.