A Touch of Tea

Monishita Shaswati

The glass door deepens
My memory of loneliness
Blocking out the sound of
Freedom, but not forgetting
To flaunt the attire of joy

Your head slumped on the glass door
Mind absorbed in a careless ramble
Picking up words that are not built to
Break my hope, and certainly not the ones
Plucked straight out of your heart

Sipping cold tea on a red hot afternoon
Doesn’t seem to bother you anymore
The gust of wind with gasoline brings out
A nostalgia too pure, too blind, too precious
To be lost in the aftermath of a storm

Bit by bit
You gather up
The misplaced garments
Gamble your sorrows for the
Music that wind up your soul

When my eyes meet yours
They linger on for a little more time
The tea leaves drenched in bubbling
Water meets the warmth of your smile.

a cup of tea

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