Tea Ceremonies

We drink our tea and leave unsaid
the hungry words which once misled
our friendship. Nowadays we weigh
each phrase’s power to betray;
you tell me of a book you’ve read.

Your lips press kisses in my head;
your fingers tremble as you shred
the crumpled tag from your Earl Grey;
we drink our tea.

I want to slake our thirsts in bed,
be steeped in you; I break the thread
of what I’d been about to say.
We lock eyes over china, sway
an instant in silk sheets; instead
we drink our tea.

Previously appeared in The Formalist

Index Of Published Poems