top of page
\How to drink tea
Never too broke for brews
Simmered
over a hot gas stove with cloves and thin slivers of lemon, debating whether to drink it with a lover or a book, book or lover, lover or book. Picking the book because it will last longer, an old new one filled with ink blots and superheroes with vulnerabilities which demands nothing but your time, and you have all the time in the world on a fully booked weekend while a lover will just hog the hot water and all the tea.
Poured
on a sunny afternoon, staining hot water with streaks of red which is supposed to be a burst of berries, but it inspires a burst of something else that gives you the muse and the permission to spend a literal golden hour sketching make believe shade while the real shade dances on white walls reminding you to turn the light on as you notice that somehow, your fingers are stained blue.
Brewed
for two, cups and girls, both same same but different, with curled up legs, one sips thirstily while the other blows with a huff and puff, leaves rustling against the window because some silences are sacred and as the light streams in, they daydream in tandem, of the coulda-woulda-shoulda, of creations they can conjure over caffeine.
Cost:
A lifelong chai obsession and a Friday afternoon
bottom of page