Seasons of Tea

1.

With breezes swaying through an open door in a room warmed by sunlight, you put

daisies in a jam jar on a table near a window with floating curtains, and put

gentle lips to a glass rim of green tea, refreshing and iced, with honey and lemon and

freshly plucked mint.

2.

Giggling gossip at a table for two, two arms too sore from fanning paper breezes

onto your fervid face, my melting makeup, our smiles spilling over a pitcher of sweet tea.

Pearls around necks, pearls of bubbling laughter,

pearls he gave to her (can you believe it?) when they were sitting at a sunset under a gazebo,

pearls of tea dreamily drifting down the grooves of glass onto bare knees and painted toes.

3.

Blinking awake on a misty morning, windows matte with a damp frost,

a gray blanket over a tea-stained day, Catan left on a dark oak table from the night before.

You are perfectly chilly, your nose nearly nipped, and the only remedy is

a double-cupped paper cup of English Breakfast tea—cream, some sugar—

which hugs your chest and your belly and your breath with warm arms and closed eyes.

4.

Frigid shoulders live under toasty sweaters and humming hugs

before a crinkle-crackling fireplace. Favorite mugs of spiced teas wait on countertops

topped with icing and peppermints from gingerbread houses, while we sway under a

teasing twig with white berries. When we sip, we smell ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon and honey,

and think this is what love is: this tea and this person and this quiet everything.

Emily Paik is a 2nd generation Korean-Tennessean senior at USC. A double major in Film Studies and Creative Writing, she spends most of her time writing, not only because of her abundant and overwhelming love for the craft, but also because of the many paper deadlines she has to meet between all of her classes. In her free time, she enjoys woodworking, baking pies, and helping out on student film sets. Currently, she is doing her best.