steam rising from your cup
as you sip your tea.
You held my gaze
as if you're drinking me in,
never minding the
scalding heat burning your tongue.
I look at you through the
steam rising from my own cup
and suddenly I thought of forever.
But not of the immortal kind,
but the one were I could
always spend my mornings just like this.
Me, watching you finish your tea,
with the steam rising
and the scent of tea and coffee surrounding us,
and the lines on your face get deeper in time,
yet the smile you have for me
never changes.
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