You sit with your cup of coffee, as if you were sitting with an old friend, who knows your secrets that you have been ignorant of, and confides in you what time has tried to whisper. You see in the darkness of that liquid the image of your heart, and hear between the breaths of steam a conversation that the ear does not perceive but the soul does. There, you learn that coffee is not a drink to be sipped, but a silent journey into the depths of you, and a hidden mirror that reveals to you the other side of you that you have always fled from.
