You asked me to coffee
Your intentions vague
I welcomed the uncertainty
I liked this cloud of spores
I breathed them in deep
Elevated by its mass
A glorious journey
One that left me perplexed
This joyous cloud of substance
One which needs no roots
A vast haze without candor
Growing and taking hold
Let’s bask in its greatness
In the feeling it bestows
Emanating from your silence
In those words you have not told
This mycelium it grows
And with wonder it bestows
It grows no roots as it folds
It will not last and it will be fast