"the warmth
in my mouth.
that rush
through my veins
making my heartache
my pulse quicken
my head-
just a bit dizzy.
my legs-
just a bit numb.
my tongue
years for more
more of you
right now.
now.
i can't wait anymore.
this is torture.
seriously.
i'm in hell.
waiting for you.
i just want to shout
to this giant crowd of people
"how hard is it to make a latte, fuckers?"
i love you, coffee."
— Pamela Ribon (Why Girls Are Weird: A Novel)