Me: “Stay for some more minutes before parting away. My love for you is till the last drop…”
Tea: Oh, poetess. I enjoy being your muse but I cannot stay. As you are aware.
Me: “Why? Why do you leave me sooner than my thought?”
Tea: Because I am happening till the time I am hot. And you drink me sooner than one can expect.
Me: “You know I was thinking about dressing our togetherness in words.”
Tea: You are meant to make anything to be your muse. I know not how words even like you.
Me: “Hey, this is rude. Words like me this is why I enjoying undressing thoughts.”
Tea: Better ask words if they do. I do not think they even come to you at times.
Me: “Ah, yes. I experience writers block every week. Adding to it the pandemic…”
Tea: Not the pandemic again. It is an excuse. Go take a bath at least.
Me: “I am not leaving you.”
Tea: What is left of me for you to stay?
Me: “The last drop.”
Tea: The one to whom you are conversing is now sticking to the cup. First it was coffee, then me and your poetry.
My last conversation with Ginger Tea and I went to bath after this. Thinking of shifting to green tea for some months. She will surely like to be my muse, I assume.
by
Kritika
Image: Photo by Thought Catalog on Pexels.com
Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).
