Espresso, why do you have to be so unfathomably delicious and potentially deadly at the same time? While drinking you, you make me feel so cultured, noble, literary... European. But upon draining you from your cup, I begin to feel the onset of your potentially ruthless ways. My heart begins to pound at my sternum like some depraved, maniacal wolf banging upon the frail door of a timid, shivering pig. The smooth, savory sips of your robust being quickly subside to a jaw clench that threatens to send my bottom row of teeth clean through the roof of my dome. It's a delicate relationship we entertain, Espresso. I am careful not to cross you often, but like some steaming liquid siren, you send my will crashing, splintering upon the rocky shores of a caffeinated demise.