Water for Tea

They are not yours, those eyes -those hazel eyes crustedwith sleep-thrashed release -and neither the mind behindthinking of toast on a new day,soft-buttered and still yet crisp. And those are not yours, those fingers,curled smooth-knuckled on the cutlery,waiting for toast and soft butter -and neither the wait for the kettle’spitched steam or the dry tea... Continue Reading →

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