My Hot Chocolate

Lonesome marched into my room,
where my hot chocolate kept me company,
melting the blues of sorrow
with the sweet taste caressing my tongue,
the warmth from her brown velvet coating my throat,
and her cacao’s aroma embracing me all around.
We sat together, sharing each other’s secrets,
listening to music and watching movies.

My coldness was contagious, permeating her,
and she grew colder with every passing minute,
she lost her glow and wept in my hold.
Yet still, we found comfort in our presence.

That until she was gone,
the mug became empty and so was I,
with only a whiff of what it had felt like.