Tea – Cheong En Qi

(Pearl of the Orient; Blend no: 122)

‘It has to be a brewing
temperature of less
than 100 degrees.
You have to take it
out— four minutes max.’

I shake the Gryphon sachet;
its loose contents tumble
about its meshed surface,
sealed and contained
within three by three
inches of a square.

We started out with tea.
You sat across the
table and said,
‘Take a sip before
throwing a cube in.’
You watched my
reaction, as my lips
parted the china.
Its flavours,
unmasked, spilling
onto my palate.

Lightly dropping it
into the cup,
I watch it resist
the hot water,
momentarily.
Almost as if
hesitant, to allow
water to taint its
painfully preserved
leaves.

I could get used to this.

The mesh
slowly lets in water
into its insides.
The fluid teases
its contents;
carefully unravelling
jasmine pearls
lying amongst
Moroccan rose petals.

I breathed in
subtle floral notes,
and nodded my head.

Its dry toasted leaves
suck in water,
in exchange for brown
dusty clouds.
Then, like the air
in a desert
after a sand storm,
it clears
and residue settles.
The water
is no longer a
colourless clarity;
all I see is tea.

Past the yellow
Jasmine green sea,
tiny ridges
line the bottom;
centering
its circular base.
Are these the
lines they look at
to read our fortunes?
Will they not change
with every swirl,
or dip of the spoon.

I wondered if you
are like that.

I take a sip. It is
bitter. I have steeped
the leaves, for too long.
Tannin overpowers
my taste buds—
my brows furrow.
Its bitter aftertaste,
I try to hide.

When I taste you again,
I tell you that you’re not the same.