i don’t like coffee.
too bitter.
too bold.
the kind of thing that leaves its taste behind,
long after it’s gone.

but you—
you didn’t ask me to like it.
you were always patient,
while i slowly sipped it.
and somehow, it started to taste sweet on my tongue,
like something i could get used to.

now i find myself craving the quiet it brings,
the way it lingers— always soft and steady
i still don’t like coffee.
but i’ve grown to love the way it tastes with you.