My lover drinks tea in the evening,
Because it calms him. Because its simple
Because it’s made of the earth and he feels empty of the dirt
Sometimes when he’s been reading up on politics and pain.
Because he’s made of the earth and he remembers
A motherland; a lifetime from here.
My lover drinks tea in the evening because he’s not native,
He’s not bitter about Boston and what we dumped in the bay.
He drinks tea, biting and oversteeped, like the desert
Night lit clouds implying a sandstorm of stars.
My lover drinks 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