On slow love and instant coffee

by You Have My Word


She reads the instructions on instant coffee labels and leaves bite marks on shoulders between sheets and sweat. She is not one for you to try understand but rather one to be understood by, for when she plants you in her nail beds like seeds you will never cease to grow.

She will leave you wild, but not unkempt for she knows you can fend for yourself. She also knows that the vines you keep hidden should never grow thick and twisted enough to trip and strangle the ones closest to you. She is closer still – a stem, your spine. She is in the fibre and fight of your roots burrowing, burying what is gone because together… together you rest in peace with roots that run this deep.

You will bud and blossom into everything she touches. And she will touch you. Not like Midas turning everything into gold, but turning you green and full of life. She will uproot what’s dead and convince even your weeds to grow flowers and dandelions. She will pull out the thorns like an affliction you’ve carried far too long – too afraid to let go, too afraid of having empty hands.

With her you will never lack; you will never be empty-handed or thirsty for water and adventure. She sows life back into you from the soil where you soul sleeps. In letting her prune, you are learning to give up control.

While this might explain the bite marks on your shoulder, it will also explain the parts of yourself you don’t recognise. It will explain how you become comfortable in being quiet before the storm – preparing to weather the chaos in your branches and host the thrash alongside the beating of your heart. Bleed the noise into your delicate collapsible veins. Know that the risk exists, that the possibility of being poisoned is very real but worth it.

So when she offers to make you coffee the morning after, and you know it is not French press, slow-brewed or freshly-ground, do not doubt her. Do not second guess her judgement or retract your trust like a daffodil in too harsh sunlight. Let her soak into your skin.

Let her nourish you, regardless of the coffee. She will feed you full and then feast on you as both her garden to tend to and her greener pasture in the South. She will look after you and lose herself in your promise. She will never neglect the tender trimming nor will she get tired of the great outdoors. You are great. You are growing. You are giving.

She is grateful. So she kisses you.