Tea

I’ve been drinking cups of tea to feel as warm as you make me. It’s like a burn when the drink is too hot, but I’m much too eager to let it cool off. Almost addicted to the feeling, I go back for more. We are a cup of tea. I’m the scalding water that sits concise and clear. You are the unknown herbs that remain a mystery to me, but you came into my life. You cloud my vision and leave me in an aromatic haze. You’ve infiltrated my protective mug, steeping until I can’t get you out. My idea of feminine intimacy seemed to dissolve at the thought of you. I haven’t discovered what it is about you that attracts me. Much like a dream, we share cradled fantasies between the crevices of our fingers. But that’s all it is. A dream. Simple daydreams woven from a shared cup of tea. But the water is too hot and I am unsure if I enjoy tea, or the idea. With this foreign feeling I’m not sure what I’ve become. All of this could’ve been avoided if one thing was different. I wish you were a girl.

By Kaya Trefz