Do you realize that I need that mug of tea? The first cup in early hours is the most crucial. I need that first sip to go on; to feel that warmth oozing out from the cup that leaves little beads of vapor on your face when you stare too close at the perfect blend of milky brown; I need to hold that mug, cupped in both my hands while the warmth slowly travel up your arms and pervade throughout. I need to walk slowly, alone, lost in my apartment, just knowing that I can, that there is no rush, and that there are no answers I owe. After work, after school, I need that stroll in the city, the chaotic city, with energy tumbling out from cafes, street corners, alleys, this city that I find impossible to be passed off as descent livable space, populated with obese people, populated with the most beautiful people, with ATM booths and chain stores popping up in a blink of an eye just like those museums, boutiques and theaters. I denounce it, it’s not mine, I have nothing to do with this murky ditch, but I am taken aback by its crisp charm, its chirpy handsomeness and its frivolous pursuits. I need to keep my dates, my rendezvous every week, with my most walked avenues, the corner café oppostite the curb in the neighborhood, that news-stand owned by the turban man, 14th St, Barns and Nobles. I deserve that papa-bear cup of hot chocolate the day it is officially winter. I need to run my hand on grainy stone walls while I walk, so that it leaves my fingers rough and tingly, studded with tiny silver dust particles. I long to look way up and watch high buildings while it snows for the first time before Christmas. I have to make that brisk jump every day from the fourth last escalator step, right when the talking machine announces for the very last time “to be careful and to hold on to the hand rail”. Do you know that honey?
I need to read atleast one peom every day that nips in the bud, that sort of tickles you but don't go deep. I need to come home late from work at times, even when there isn’t much work, just because I can. I need to be on and off in love with love, with you, with life, my life, all this which is my life. Babe, you know I do.
And sweetie now as much as I love lying here by your side, under the shadowy bed canopy with flowing lace, hanging ivy, purple grapes and white leaves, just as much as I love that occasional, reassuring squeeze of my palm, just as I need that out of the blue peck, as much as I demand to be questioned at times to feel cared for, I also need to get up, get up for my cup of tea.
I need to read atleast one peom every day that nips in the bud, that sort of tickles you but don't go deep. I need to come home late from work at times, even when there isn’t much work, just because I can. I need to be on and off in love with love, with you, with life, my life, all this which is my life. Babe, you know I do.
And sweetie now as much as I love lying here by your side, under the shadowy bed canopy with flowing lace, hanging ivy, purple grapes and white leaves, just as much as I love that occasional, reassuring squeeze of my palm, just as I need that out of the blue peck, as much as I demand to be questioned at times to feel cared for, I also need to get up, get up for my cup of tea.
