Bianca Isla prepares coffee for detective Cuadrado

She Uses fresh coffee beans, from an old can which bursts with flavour on opening and she grinds the portions measuring with care
Boiling in an old black kettle over the stove she bites her copper-green thumb nail, staring off into space
She pours the hot navy blue coffee into crimson cups, a silver strainer hovering over the rims
Purple mist cloaks the kitchen with caffeinated aroma


Between Two Perfectly Shaped Clouds

Tired TV slouches against the wall.
Iron boards lean down low.
wooden mop
drenched in sweet fluids;
ants floating lifeless.
Chained to an open tap a Freezer; weighed down with spirits
concocts The perfect mix;
tea, sugar, and Arukōru.