Poem 91

My lover makes tea in the evening
Because it calms him
Because its simple
Because its made of the earth and he feels empty of the dirt sometimes when he’s been reading about politics and beaurocracy…
Because he’s made of the earth on some level, we both are

My lover makes tea in the evening because he’s not from here
He’s not bitter about boson; what we put in the bay
He drinks tea not coffee… Because tea tasted like home to him, like the desert and the sea and the air when it’s too dry to birth springtime
My lover brews tea in the evening and I wonder why it is two people can put water to dust and not call it magic…
He’s merely my lover
It’s just tea

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