She is a mug of tea.
But maybe not in the sense your mind immediately goes to where
“she runs down your throat
and warms your chest and makes you taste a little sweeter”
but in the way where
you desperately want a sip of her right that very second
even when you know she’ll burn your tongue
and ruin your appetite
and even after you’re burnt you keep bringing her to your lips
more cautiously
but still trying to breathe her in and smell her good smell and have her all to yourself
while keeping your hands wrapped tightly around her because it feels nice and right
and warm.
But then you get distracted, and get away
and leave her while you get up and go out and do something else with someone else
and she waits.
And you get back
and you pick her up and sip, this time confidently
because you know she can’t harm you
and she is cold and sweet but strong, and different.
But you drink her up till her last drop anyways.
