FTM.c1.4

Express me a coffee when it’s diluted by my own additives.

Of its beans that grinds my gears,

Of its grain that makes my nose tingle,

To the black water that makes me shiver,

From its aroma an elixir that only gods know how to make use.

Then after that taste of life does make sense, a bitterness that makes it sweet.

Only sugar and creamer sometimes makes it diluted with all of its robustness. 

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