Like running shoes, the body wears out from the inside. The body worn thin by the heart that pumps too much blood, too often, or just plain wrong. You shouldn't think about things you shouldn't think about. And you definitely shouldn't count on what little you know. Like shoes, head, and heart, it too will wear out. All I know is just enough to fill a thimble. And if you pause here, you can throw it back like a jolt of espresso and move on.
All I want is one. All I want is one good cup, one good cup of the bitter brown stuff. All I want is one gal, one pal, one shirt that lets the air through. How many ceramic Kennedy heads can one man use in his life? How many good cups can one man expect his life to muster?
One. One. All I want is one. One sweet thing, loading them into the minivan or whatnot. One head on my chest. One heart. One breath. One horoscope to read aloud. One set of hands to memorize.
All I want is one good cup. And just enough to know that one is enough.