Hugging the edges of the blackness, petals conflate with nebulae, the aroma oscillates amid stellar symphonies. Consciousness, a vortex of roasted beans, disorients your sense, sipping lightyears.
Somewhere in continuum, the espresso machine sputters its metal warble, a crescendo amidst soft whispers of relic comets. Is it audible, that arabica greeting the void whispering controloca? You never wake, always awake in the eternal sips of cosmic nectar.