ambrosia


I should have known when I watched you brew tea.
Bubbles, tiny at first, accumulate.
Eyes on the tea, you would not look at me.
 
Boil, boisterous now, you pour carefully
liquid, the silken sac’s leaves permeate.
I should have known when I watched you brew tea.
 
You stir crystal white clumps of clarity,
an antibody to the milky mind-state.
Eyes on the tea, you would not look at me.
 
A scented whiff of vulnerability
flavors the silence that predominates.
I should have known when I watched you brew tea.
 
Your cups steamy pass transcends our bodies’
inability to communicate.
Eyes on the tea, you would not look at me.
 
Down my spine travels the first sip’s searing 
recognition that with you I’m awake.
I should have known when I watched you brew tea.
Eyes on the tea, you would not look at me.

 

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