—a ritual you swore you’d mastered, but every press feels heavier than the last
The grounds sat still, the timer ticked,
You poured with care, the motions slicked.
Four minutes long, a silent wait,
A ritual you’d learned to hate.
The bloom was gone, the scent was thin,
A ghost of craft, a hollow din.
You pressed it slow, you felt the weight,
A piston grinding small mistakes.
The glass was hot, the handle shook,
A polished lie, a practiced look.
You poured it out, you drank it down.
A bitter crown in borrowed gown.
You did it right. You did it well.
But elegance can taste like hell.
📜 French Pressed Again – The Recipe
Ingredients:
- 30g Coarse Ground Coffee (perfect grind, pointless effort)
- 450ml Hot Water (just below boiling, like your patience)
- Brew Method: French Press (because you can’t quit ceremony)
- Garnish: None, ritual is garnish enough
Instructions:
Bloom coffee, stir gently, steep four minutes. Press slow, like you’re pushing down everything you didn’t say. Pour into a heavy mug, drink while questioning why you bother repeating this performance.