My love language is a cup of tea:
The mindful preparation and graceful alchemization of water, earth, plasma, fire and air...brewed and streamed downward into a supple ceramic mug.
The jittering heat of the water invites the ceramic lattices to dance, vibrate, and warm themselves in synchronous rhythm.
The placing of the mug –full of nutritious warmth– in front of the face, under the nose, around the chilled hands...of another.
With a ’this is for you’
And a smile
And maybe a soft resting of the hand on the back of the shoulder-blade of the person I love:
Them loving me by receiving this tea.
Perhaps a flickered joining of irises and an exchange of a curious smile– before refocusing into our kindered solitudes again.
Fluid warmths streaming into my nostrils and down my throat: igniting my breath and my belly.
Or the simple company of the now chilled mug– snickering at how often I seem to forget to actually drink up it’s contents.
Yes. I think my love language is a cup of tea.