I think it’s already getting to me.
“it” being the romantic idea of beauty that’s been seared into the sound of espresso grinding and milk steaming.
Infused in the vegan black bean brownie.
Language becomes beautiful. Finding irony is a treasure hunt.
Perspectives become “What if I saw what I saw as a bird?”
Then questions don’t stop.
Like, “Wow! Life is so mysterious…” and “Damn. Like…free love y’know…”
The hippie movement must’ve started in an underground cafe during a time when lacing coffee with LSD was legal.
You say things like “Let’s say music is just speech in general” and now the universe is an analogy.
Getting carried away in underground cafes is no joke, man.
God must’ve spent his Sabbath in one of these things…and that’s how we became his poetry.
“For we are God’s poetry…” - Ephesians 2:10
And then we were created in His image to find overflowing emotion in the safety of underground cafes.