You are the reason I wake up in the morning, my inspiration, my muse.

You are the light of my life, the one that I would do anything for. The thought of you can make a dreaded day seem bearable.

As I walk into a room where you have been, the very scent of you can melt away every problem, past, present and future, can bring me into a moment of pure perfection.

Your silky smooth perfection takes my breath away; your alluring flawlessness holds me captive.

I am your slave.

Coffee, you are the very reason for my existence. My life rotates around you as a planet around a star, your gravity pulls me into an eternal orbit of praise; we are tethered to one another with an unbreakable bond.

I have only one concern:

It seems that people everywhere are losing touch with your natural beauty and excellence. They are besmirching your perfection with (dare I say it?) cream and sugar and awful flavored syrups!

I am sure you are as horrified as I am. Your beauty is being drowned in an unending outward spiral of cream and sugar and terrifying flavor combinations like pumpkin spice, rocky road and even pistachio. Pistachio!

I ask you: when will it end?

I am afraid that the nightmarish corruption will never cease, that it will continue until we reach such unbelievable flavors as peppermint (has this abomination already happened?) and juju fruit.

How can I survive the brutal olfactory assault that is peppermint mocha, pumpkin spice, red velvet cupcake and a plethora of flavors derived from Girl Scout cookies?

Oh, coffee, I am afraid that I will lose your perfection in a terrifying tidal wave of “innovation,” I am petrified at the thought of one day entering the grocery store and finding nothing but shocking novelty flavors.

But for now, we have each other. We can be alone together and I can revel in your perfection.

It is a privilege I will not take for granted.