Poetry

The kettle hisses like a life snake
with steam evaporating, almost burning my hand
while I am pouring the hot water into two cups
and I do not remember
if it’s Joko or Five Roses,
(it doesn’t matter anyhow)
and I put the kettle down
but before I can put some cream or milk in
you cuddle me from behind
with your perfume, your body against mine,
your presence,
later is all that is in my mind
and sugar is added
before I press the teabags with a teaspoon
and stir both cups
and there’s something in the taste
something special when your eyes
tell me that you do enjoy that cup of tea.