Tea Leaves and Time

Tea leaves dance, swirling in porcelain white,

Memories settling, bathed in pale moonlight.

Each cup consumed, a chapter untold,

Of stolen moments, now growing cold.

Your presence, a whisper, like steam that fades,

Leaving only bitterness, where sweet tea pervaded.

Time paints over stains, with a patient hand,

But the scent of longing, forever in the sand.

Will new leaves infuse, a different taste unfold?

Can the teapot mend, its story yet untold?

Or will the dregs of love forever remain,

A bittersweet reminder, etched in sorrow's stain?

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