A Silent Brew

By Aria Raina

so many things that i just don’t know.

whether you prefer your coffee hot or cold,

if the warmth holds you or chill mend you.

maybe you don’t weave webs out of nothing like i do.

but does the bitter keep you awake longer than it should?

so you brew and brew, and spiral in your own cocoon.

or the sweet console you when your purpose takes a detour?

and all you can rely on is poetry and surrender.

so many things that i just don’t know.

do you ever sit and focus on perhaps, a pixel—

a pixel of the universe you unearthed for you stared,

just a little too long, until it pulled you into a strain of thought?

and recall the days you didn’t watch the clock tick,

in silence, as if the world were in slow motion—

but that is, only in your little bubble.

you knock on the door, testing your luck,

hoping when you confess, a voice echoes in response.

so many things that i just don’t know.

so many things that i will never know.

the scent of longing lingers like a digital footprint,

typewriters might be outdated but the notion behind them remain.

By Aria Raina