the traces of your lips stain my coffee mug
and sit there gently like a cat
-basking in the midday sun,
waiting for its human
to preen and prime delicately on its impeccable fur;
while it simply takes in return
(selfishly as a cat would do)
only to leave it's mark and stray.
It moves on, leeching from the next God-forsaken fool who crosses its path in a dark alley after a heavy night on the bourbon