FRYING THE TEA

Her bedsit.

"Only enough room to lay my hat
and a few friends!
she Dorothy Parker's me.

We sit
only atoms apart.

"I'll fry you up
some tea!"
she says all eagerly.

"Oh...?" I oh
politely.

She puts the milk
in the frying pan...first.

Then the water and only then
a single teabag.

"I've never had fried tea
...'til now!"

My mind grinning from
here to here.

"Come here!" she smirks
hotting things up.

Kissing me to allow
the tea

time to stew.

The atoms between us
achieving Brownian Motion.

Forgotten in the frying pan
the tea wonders why

( on its incredibly stewed journey
from cool to cold )

why it was ever made
in the first place.

Humans can be hard
to understand.