cups and baths and baskets of
JOY
inside you?
On one hand you would like to shout it from the rooftops,
or the treetops, but then again, where are the words to describe it all?
I am not so great with words,
so the words fail me, (I suppose) and I
ache and smile and I say (with a lack of elegance)
I am happy, this feels beautiful.
Thank you sky, thank you light rain from tonight.
I am in New York, hence the joy, hence the drivel,
I have indulged.
In coffee.
It's made me fizz and turn in circles. Lovely circles.
Today I was in Williamsburg/Brooklyn. It was a warm place, I liked it very much. At the end of the day I stumbled across the fabled 'Clover coffee'. It switched me on and off and on and off like a light switch with OCD, or is that ODD?
I don't know.
(Update-this is the clover tile on the floor in the bathroom of the cafe where I found my first Clover Coffee. I liked the criss cross of it all. The place in question by the way is a great cafe called El Beit...
The black box on the counter is 'The Clover'.
I don't know how I became so obsessed about this...)
I do know, I won't be touching the Clover for some time.
(They ground the beans infront of me. I felt like I was watching some kind of performance piece. One that involved a finely tuned, polished metal machine).
I must go.
Otherwise I might end up putting you to sleep with my coffeeheart...
think I am going to pass out.
J O Y...
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