O, great glass of burning,

Holy Chalice of Sensation,

Do not at my class depart.

My love consumes you.

As a fire in my belly,

you fill me wholly.

Yet under my zealous lust,

you fall away.

My mouth is open,

but my taste is closed.

In my pursuit of sugar,

to my love of caffeine,

you are swallowed.

You open my eyes,

but I failed to open my heart.

Now I hold you poured out.

And mourn too late to save you.

Now I see what I have lost.

When it is gone from me.

--the Existential Calvinist