my mother
bought me a latte
               in a drably fancy
                              park cafe

it was in a
little, plump mug,
         mug-blue like a
robin’s egg,

and glistening
           glistening because
the sun pushed

glimmery rays
          glimmering
its creaming froth

the top layer,
          a dopey duvet
on a bed that

parents tuck
           chirping children into,
smiled at me
with its
         smooth face,
marked by mocha’s

          dazzling coffee heart,
seeping into the
          fluff

i stared
         back at it

not brave enough
         to blow a willful wind,
to thrust the
          coffee heart,
          the smooth foam face,
into utter chaos,

like the
       wrapping on a birthday gift,
coffee
          suds shredding into
muddled and clumped
disarray

yet the drink
taunted me
           its smile slurred

summoning me
         to sip it

to fill my mouth with

         fuzzy warmth,
then to
          flow to my veins,
my fingertips,
my toes, all of me,

a sweatshirt
          for my bloodstream
          it rallied to be my
                   bloodstream’s sweatshirt

i pulled that mug
        to my lips,
drenching my sleep-soaked
morning
in what it
         needed

Jessica Horton is a freshman at Kinder High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. Her short stories have been published in iWRITE’s 2019 Anthology, and have also been recognized by Scholastic Art and Writing Awards with an honorable mention, silver key, and gold key. In her spare time, Jessica enjoys drinking coffee and walking her two dogs.