China Kisses

Poems from 2015.

The way her lips close
around the edge of the teacup:
again and again
with every sip of scorching tea
like china kisses risked
amidst the burning.

Her hair is a curl
of earthbound eternal steam,
brushing against the white –
and her fingers
slender around the cup,
intertwined with each other.

Each sip is a sensory torment,
each china kiss
unfulfilled longing and tea
almost as warming as love
but ever unresponsive
to the movement of her lips.

(1st January, 2015)

The End

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