tea for cramps

milky mug of blue
your clay curves exude
the warmth of my lover’s hands
rested on my belly
which tightens – cursed by cramps

the musk of your taste
moves to the roof of my mouth
and liquid comfort swirls to my swollen womb
bloated with the pain of twisted fallopian tubes

so I drink your sweetened brew
of leaves and sugar cubes
the love of my teapot’s concoction
held with both hands,

unlike the melty brown compassion
of a sweeter companion
whose care is half-hearted
and takes revenge in my waist’s expansion.


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