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Sweetness that seeps in perception

By Lori LamothePublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

Tea in a mug, held between both hands,

          late winter light

slanting through the windows.

All week I’ve brewed tea, by which I mean

          thrown a bag

into hot water and waited three minutes

for its amber bloom. Added honey,

          a dollop of milk,

sipped accordingly. In my life

I’ve avoided routine. Read serenity

          as a synonym

for boredom. I’d like to say my mind

has settled after an appropriate wait,

          that peace

blooms amber on the page,

and I have at last reached the point

          where the point

doesn’t matter―but that would just be

me drinking whatever blend of fantasy

          I happen to be

brewing, by which I mean throwing an idea

into hot water, adding a dollop of BS,

          and waiting for sweetness

to seep into perception. Sipping accordingly.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Lori Lamothe

Poet, Writer, Mom. Owner of two rescue huskies. Former baker who writes on books, true crime, culture and fiction.

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