When tea is spilled in your heart
It's hard to gasp
Because you're burning inside
And your fingers
Frantically fumble for familiarity
Some cream to lighten the load
Perhaps, or sugar to sweeten it?
Clanking the silver spoon in between your fingers
Clinging to the privilege that people don't quite know about
Clinking prayers in between your teeth
Until it sounds like a warm comfort,
At least to the ears of the deaf.
Scalding memories try to sear me, make me
Want to spill more hot water
All over my chest, my CHEST
Heaves of having Heaven
Carefully folded in my lap
I need it to capture the spills
I will make
During this dreadful ordeal.