The Ritual

His silhouette leaning
focused on the ritual
combine, stir then draw
the point of silver
an arm outstretched
bated breath as he aims
a sigh when it hits home
relief and he leans back
a familiar dusk sets on his face
the slump now
scarcely a rise and fall
alert she leans in
pulls him back
deep breath darling
and again, that’s it
the pink returns
to cheeks, lips, ear tips
her hand laid on his chest
watching, counting
caring, waiting
until he sits up
blinks, stretches, sighs
Cuppa tea my love?