lush, soft and white,
capture my imagination
and send it pivoting into the unknown.
My fruitloops pop their tinted lips at me
and sing along
"we're following the leader, the leader, the leader..."
as they edge along their ceramic fort.
My coffee sits in silence,
though steam rises from the activity below.
Factory workers lie beneath
pumping their tiny feet on their steam-pedals
and grinding the coffee beans with their fists.
I distractedly stir around my cereal
and suddenly they're a circus.
Tigers jump through soggy hoops
and take a dip in the silver pool that is my spoon.
My coffee becomes an audience;
as I pour, it brims over the edge
and excitedly spills onto the table.
An angry mob rushing towards the magical view.
Simply milk in my cereal bowl;
but it's a world of my own.
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