A cup is a quietly intimate thing
That your hands flutter and wrap around
Like a mama bird's wings over her young.
The warmth creeps to your palms
Like a vine that stretches its arms
Around a wide, wide trunk.
The rim leaves a burn on your mouth
Like a lover's first kiss
Slow to come and slow to go.
The smell oozes sweet from its lips
Like the maple
Desire dripped from
Except, it's a meeting even more
To anyone who looks, you are just a girl