French Press in the Morning

The coffee is rich, like honey and dark wood.

The words are simple but deeply intricate, like a tapestry that has been perfected, in which one could find the finest details and never stop finding them the closer they look.

The blankets are soft and comforting.

The company is sweet and healing.

The time spent here is a balm for the soul, a soothing voice to a tired heart. It’s like a kiss on the forehead and a kiss on the lips; a sweet kind of intimacy, a gentle kind of love.

It feels like a hand to hold and a window that lets in the fresh air.

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