Starting the Day with Tea

They always say it starts with a fresh, hot cup of tea
Because that is all I could think about with you and me
On the forefront of my mind. Just like the tea kettle
That is whistling and the tea leaves that begin to settle
On the bottom of my mug, you stir those forbidden
Thoughts rattling through my heart. Those hidden
Memories are brought back to the murky surface
With every sip and swallow. I just want to trace
Your face one last time with my fingers like I follow
The mug’s rim, watching and feeling the hollow
Sound of your heartbeat. But then the tea becomes
Stale and cold in my delicate hands. Then comes
The reality that we could never go back to how things
Were before because the truth is that everything stings.