This tea.
It’s just sitting here
–
Staring at me.
Asking for attention
and to simply be ingested.
And to maybe be righted for its wrongs.
I suppose that it couldn’t help getting cold.
Sitting out on a desk for a couple of hours that might as well have been months/years happens to do that to a liquid.
Or a solid for that matter.
And I guess it’s not cold or lukewarm.
It’s room temperature.
We all are.
BLONDE ON BLONDE 