Black coffee before the yellow sun rises muddying my view with its variant colors. Even with the yellow sun almost in my eye I am defiant and glance toward the darker sky. Black coffee allows a truer reality of the day without wind tossing about nets of stray colors. Oh, I love the ritual of the rising of the sun but I am myself more totally without such swirls. Let suns control their worlds; but know, they do not control me until after I drink my black coffee.
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