Wants and needs.

The old coffee shop and the strong aroma of crushed coffee beans,
Warm sweaters and cold palms that rush with an urgency to hold you.
Your tight embrace and the trail of kisses that follow.
The sun that refuses to shine bright on a cold December morning.
As the steam from my cup of coffee fogs up my vision,  I think of you.
I don’t want you anymore,
I need you.

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