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
Clink
Can't tell if it's my teeth
Or the cup
In communion with cutlery
Never you mind
This
Has finished brewing
And I almost forgot to say
Thank you for my sugar