2. Black Tea

I can feel the heat

Radiating

From your paper-bag head

Worn by choice, you say?

Nobody forced you to hide your breath

What is it

   You are choosing to conceal?

Is it a scar?

I know some scars never heal

Is it an expression?

Of love,

Of violence,

Of lust?

Or all three of the above

I hope

There is NOTHING you can conceal from me

I keep telling myself that

But I still can’t sleep

Maybe you simply don’t want to see my face?

The paper bag is a barrier to erase

The memories?

As bittersweet as sugared black tea

I’m joking, I know you like coffee