She Makes Me Tea

She asks me
Would you like some tea?
As I read,
Lounging,
The expanse of
Microfiber couch
Between us
Shrinking
Her voice
Tender,
She doesn’t drink
Tea
Or vodka,
Her consideration
So difficult to believe
How do I accept
Unconditional love?

She rises,
Traverses a menagerie
Boils water
Scoops dried leaves
Into my favourite
French kitten cup
(The one for tea,
She knows coffee
Goes in the green
Starbucks mug)
Steeps,
Long enough
And places beside me
Smiling,
“Drink it,
Before it gets cold,”

My heart quickens,
Remembering her soft lips
Heart bursting
Three years
I still don’t quite
Believe
Are real,

But she is action,
And her everyday kindness
Is its own indelible
Poetry
Etched forever
Into the hollows
The dents and cracks,
Of our mutual
Crazy
Love story.

1SageFemme All Rights Reserved 2017

One thought on “She Makes Me Tea

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