Tea Room

That frail silhouette

with elegant pose

says nothing of her tortured substance

Says nothing of her subterranean scars

Her caves of suffocated conflict

Mouth barely above water line

 

She sips the tisane tincture tentatively

adding damp to dryness

Roiboos red lips

atop a sanguine scar

 

Suppress a shielded stare

least she turns your way and speaks

familiar tone

sister unknown

 

9 thoughts on “Tea Room”

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