c u p o f t e a

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She drinks tea like it is water
Using it to chase away her fears
As the smooth chamomile soothes her soul

She would brew me a cup too
Laughing as she polluted the heated drink with sugar and honey
Smiling as she stirred away my troubles

The caramel colored liquid the same color as her eyes delighted my taste buds
My eyes never leaving her form as she gestured wildly while telling a story
A smile growing behind my cup

A story-teller is what she was
She liked guitars with stories
That’s what she was going on about

An old concert acoustic she had seen while passing a hole in the wall thrift store
A single broken heart carved into its neck between the strings
Hidden and you would have missed it if you weren’t really looking

I was baking when she came to me
A series of cookies and cakes I was making to surprise her
The guitar in her grasp

I did not think she would have went to buy it
That smile of hers as she held it washed away all my thoughts
She didn’t know how to play a guitar to save her life
But I did.

As she sat down, her favorite mug in her grasp
I let my fingers flow across the strings
A melody made for her
As sweet as the tea in her cup

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