black tea

when you feel down
you can talk to me
and even if you can’t use words
you can bury your head in my shoulder
and i will make soothing sounds
because i won’t know
what to say
and i will hold you
for a long time
and it won’t matter
that we don’t know
why we have to be together

in the backyard
on a sunday arvo
the sun is warm
i close my eyes
and the sounds
of the suburbs
melt into me

in the darkness
of the morning
i look at the red numbers
for the seventh time
and work is a bulldozer
coming ever closer
and behind me
the edge of a cliff
there’s nowhere to go
so i look at the clock
and it’s one minute uglier

a cup of tea
will warm your hands
whether it has milk or sugar
but if it’s black
then it reminds me of you
and everything goes cold
and i remember
holding you holding me
and things coming into line
or getting out of the way
so that the important things
like fingers interlocked
like notes left in love
like a plane overhead
pause
in this moment
because there is no other
because there is no other