We're drinking tea
from chipped mugs
again, like we do
every morning

dropping sugar
grain by grain
until the sweetness
settles on the top
like a second
skin

we wake up before the alarm sounds
first a minute to ****
and then two

as we sleep
closer night after night
our legs wrapped up
like a song
lyric

I wispered Eliot into your ears, you would leave it
on Post It notes on
the fridge

we don't have photographs there
our love is not
visual

it is in touch
of breath against
neck at midnight

the tightening grip
of strong arms
around as I shake through another bad night

we know how we taste
and smell

the strawberry shampoo
that makes you want
to wrap my hair
around your tongue

I fit into you like
a fossa

our fingers resting
on the ucho
of our tea cups