the drinking

In my dream, we make tea.
Black, strong and smokey,
Like a gun, full of promise.
The liquid pours into cups,
The aroma ascends,
We breathe:
Fingers cradling the hot,
too hot fragile shells.
The dragons will break out
They will sing with fire,
They will dance for us, with us
Till our wits’ end.
Sip, friend, and enter.

tea dragon by Unita-N

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