“Valerie, is it ready yet?”
Dark tea stains in a faded mug
Dusty brown teapot
A thousand cups have been poured
Strained, like me
It wasn’t always about the tea
The obligatory Kit-Kat
Or the toilet!
Too many trips
Too many times
“Valerie is it ready yet?”
When were you strong like this tea?
“How was your day?”
With that cheeky smile
And bedroom eyes
I miss that man so much
“Valerie is that you?”
Who do you think it is?
No conversation
The bleatings of a sad old man
“It’s got to brew,”
A discreet tap makes me jump
“He’s in the living room,”
“Valerie where’s me tea?”
“Yes it’s made,”
“He’s all packed,”
His favourite Chelsea mug
A multi- pack of Kit-Kats
Stuffed hastily in his pocket
In silver foil and blood red wrappers
A last supper
For the betrayed