peaches are out of season,
but the cold air calls for tea.
it isn’t the same without the sticky sweet,
the flesh caught between teeth-
it isn’t our love,
but the flavor is reminiscent
and if I close my eyes on an inhale
I could nearly pretend,
go back in time before the pit.
except, the wounds are closed.
you were only kind when steeping.
- I burnt my tongue on peach chai this morning || O.L.