I sit
cross legged, back straight, lips pursed, drinking you
politely.
making old lovers' conversation
dullness creeping along your backbone, hiding behind the hairs on your neck
And I decide not to warn you.

I stare
at the ring of sugar and black invaders of tea
crusting
at the bottom of my afternoon-sized tea cup
searching for some hallucinist's prophesy
to avoid your talentless eyes.

I remember
when your eyes made my body
jolt
the eyes that now make me lift my awkward elbow
to trace my finger along the crystal
trickle of sugar and return glorious.

I hold
a pearl of you, sweet on the tip of my finger.
Oh!
If only you would reach for me
palm on my hip mocking the horizon and rest there
they once told me- he saw that it was good.

For you
the slight indentation created- please
stay
and curl up and keep company.
I'm hidden in that shadow there
in that feathered spot.

My fingers
rest penned, when I stand teapot-armed waiting for
you.
My lips hold up- and my tounge happiness subdued,
tea-ringed, your taste raises me
where the sun went at night before Galileo grew bold.

you fill
that hipped spot, the clarity of sipping
you.
brushing your skin with my teeth
as you tremble from my tounge
grasping for the bottom of the cup-

to sip you.

saucer or not.

10/09/2003

Author's Note: hmmm- testing out some shaky waters

Posted on 10/13/2003
Copyright © 2024 Gabrielle L Gervais