It's a tiring job
to lift the teabag out of
my cup before,
I drink it.
So I drink it.
In fact, I have started to admire
its soft touch on my lower lip,
kissing me.
My beloved cup of tea
is the only good in my world.
But am I not lucky
to have her warm love,
help me get through this cold morning?
Her cinnamon breath
and lingering sweetness
that stays on my warm tongue
is happiness.
In an endless world
my dear cup of tea,
you're all I have.
Just you,
and me.