October 14, 2021

beginning of October: 

looks like falling leaves, tastes like chai tea,

takes me back to you first inviting me

with a pot of boiling water & a couple bags to steep

the remedy for thawing kids who walked home too late

like a memory you can't recall as a dream or reality 

when i first sipped i couldn’t tell what the familiar spices were

you told me it was chai & i blushed embarrassed

since then it’s been my favorite & every time i make it

i think of you as warmly as that first cup went down

& when i paint my fingernails light pink

i think about sitting in the dingy desk lamp lighting

you couldn’t believe they weren’t white

that same night we held our hands against each other

compared palms as an excuse for somatic connection

a week later on the same black futon as every encounter

we were listening & asking so passionately 

about oceans, sunrises, family trips, & bucket lists 

when suddenly

we closed our lips 

& i couldn’t believe you went in for the kiss

i thought it would happen only once before

when you stopped me at the door as you left my dorm 

& lingered forever with your arm against the wall 

we stood there silently, our eyes locked & smiles soft

you taught me the joys of life when taken slow

to appreciate seasons as they come & as they go

not to call upon summer when spring has yet to come

or beg fall to stay when winter’s here to take its place

i’ll always be grateful & no difference does it make

that we don’t still long for each other romantically

because every fall when i inevitably turn my kettle on

to make a cup of chai i’ll smile as i savor the taste

remembering the hot water I spilled on your floor

God, i was so nervous, & what for?

i used to believe leaving always left the stranded cold

but the firsts you gave & the comfort of our memories 

stay yellow as the leaves that somehow never dull

thank you for making my Octobers a time 

when it’s easy to look past the clouds in the sky

& i can simply enjoy my tea, appreciate each falling leaf, 

stay still, not chasing each one in the wind 

not raking as they come wanting to forget they exist

i can cherish their beauty & the beauty that stays

upon things that leave with as much purpose as when they first came