I wish I could steep your essence and drink you up.
Just the thought of that made me sneak into the quiet kitchen
and pull out the little paper square,
tear the crease,
unfold the string,
fill a mug with hot water and drop the bag inside of it
for just a few minutes.
I imagined tiny pictures of your knuckles,
or the stubble on your jaw,
your hands on the headboard,
your charismatic smirk,
to be drawn on the little rectangles dangling on a swaying string.
And I think I just fell in love with green tea and honey.