I don’t mind waiting

while our tea steeps,

because as the stems unravel,

so do we.

Leaves linger

and collarbones soften,

inviting untold stories

to infuse an honest air.

And sweet milk thickens

with empathy and truth,

while walls between us melt,

like honey from my swirling spoon.

And so we sit –

often in conversation

and sometimes in silence.

Until the edges between you

and me,

like our fragrant waters,

begin to blur.