Identity

My coffee had a belly.
It went under the second I swished it around it’s mug.
Or is it my mug?
It has more ownership being inside of it afterall.
That is not to say being inside a woman, you own her.
So maybe safe to say, it is the mug I am sipping out of and the coffee I have made to go in it, is just that.
It is it’s own identity and the mug and I,
too.