Oh spectral delight, how you haunt my mundane coffee,
Invisible muse, lurking beneath the table's sheen.
Wandering whispers, do you mock with your scoffy?
In rooms overheated, you remain unseen.
Once in mirrors, now just in dreams, you convene,
Mocking my devotion to pastries and tea.
But laugh not, dear shade, at my tragic routine,
For you, too, are bound by this quotidian spree.
Follow the echoes further