lux vitae

lux vitae

i saw you 

this morning

in the tea leaves -- 

your face crinkled

at the edges, 

smudged with 

clotted cream. 

sunbathing in 

the smile of morning, 

by those bruised grapes

on the table.

their stems echo 

your spine,

those tiny knuckles

that strain red-white

against your skin, 

like so many knots

I cannot unravel.

how I'd love to 

fish out the leaves,

untangle the stems,

blot the worry 

from your face -- 

but the spoon 

quivers, 

your cheek turns

and 

something 

spills over, 

an unplaced reverence, 

slipping like tears

down my mug. 

in its wake, 

I'll smile 

because longing 

tastes

like Earl Grey, 

bitter and warm -- 

and oh, who would've known?