Like your mouth.
Earl Gray is better
with a splash and a half of brandy
Like your cracked feet
on the sand
that one time.
Earl Gray leaves a desert on the tongue.
I can feel the mountains and valleys of my tongue.

Earl Gray is floral,
Like the perfume of that time when you almost suggested we go on a picnic,
just to enjoy each other’s hair.

You, my dear, you are Earl Gray,
A chopped up, dried up
blend of what is sweet in life
and what is searing in life.
You are Earl Gray
when you offer me your teeth when I want your knuckles,
your cheek when I want your lips.
You, my dear,
You are
Earl Gray.