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Tea and Coffee MAG
You asked if 
 I took sugar with my tea,
 and I told you no.
 It tastes too sweet,
 too full,
 too much.
 Why can't tea
 just be tea?
 A splash of milk, 
 a tea bag and hot water.
 Scalding water: I want
 it to burn my throat
 as it travels down,
 down, 
 down.
 
 You burn me.
 Although the wound
 will one day heal,
 it leaves a scar.
 I drop things when
 I'm near you,
 like my hot water tea
 with no sugar.
 I've no sugar left for you 
 no words,
 no smiles,
 no love.
 You make me feel
 so bitter
 and lost.
 
 I asked if
 you wanted milk in your coffee.
 But you like it
 black
 like your heart,
 and bitter 
 like mine.
 The kettle boils;
 we stand in silence,
 waiting,
 watching steam rise.
 Then a flurry
 of pouring and stirring,
 the clink of teaspoons
 in your tea-less state.

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