{cafe pamplona. cambridge. fall 2012. }
“i like pouring your tea, lifting
the heavy pot, and tipping it up,
so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup.
or when you’re away, or at work,
i like to think of your cupped hands as you sip,
as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips.
i like the questions – sugar? – milk? –
and the answers i don’t know by heart, yet,
for i see your soul in your eyes, and i forget.
jasmine, gunpowder, assam, earl grey, ceylon,
i love tea’s names. which tea would you like? i say
but it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day,
as the women harvest the slopes
for the sweetest leaves, on mount wu-yi,
and i am your love, smitten, straining your tea.”
-carol ann shields, rapture.
