I lay my tea reminiscently upon the kitchen counter,
Mimicking you, the simple sage
Who had always stirred the sugar into my cup
With a promise to return home before sundown, before long.

We would sit by the window and drink without conversation
At the table topped with fruit peels and dirty dishes
Summoned into a pile; you reflected all was well and yes--
Your tea was delicious, but one reason to sit still
Could not suffice for both of us.
Cravings for milk necessitate tests:
To be certain that gravity is so unguarded a force,
An embrace must be undone.

Now I tread my water, fluently
Spreading wishes scattered like stepping stones,
Over oceans or grains of sugar in a cup.
But most somedays carry moments when the stones sink,
And I have no recollection whether I lay them there,
If I needed them or why I ever felt thirsty at the sight
Of anything more than tea.