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Bringing me sugar

To put in my tea

Scalding like reverse weather

On my summer tongue

So neighbourly

That taste

Of stale granulated mornings

We do not speak

Only sip

Polite as the girl next door

Knocking with knuckles

And the sound syncopates

With tap of spoon


Can't tell if it's my teeth

Or the cup

In communion with cutlery

Never you mind


Has finished brewing

And I almost forgot to say

Thank you for my sugar

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