I would go to a coffee station for a writing retreat where over the sips of this sizzling brew, people meet to beat the blues and also to celebrate something new. My tears have become solid , they speak of no tale but amidst vivid people, my pain would melt again .
Ink would flow from my pen like the cappuccino and expresso . Tales of love, partings , victories , failures, broken hearts and happy souls all would refill me with smiles and tears and then I would smelll the feelings in every sip.
With the rust hue of feelings over a cup of coffee , I would write again, a true tale of trust and fancy