Bub­ble Tea

Prairie Fire - - KELLY STEWART -

The city’s breath against the win­dow;

our booth is the curve of a palm,

a se­cret whis­per.

He fishes in his bub­ble tea

with the end of a straw—

air pres­sure and a fin­ger tip

make a magic trick.

Un­der heav­enly hum of flu­o­res­cent choir,

the teas­ing Cupi­don raises chin and tapi­oca

and for a mo­ment of in­no­cent machismo,

he is the boy with the world on his tongue.

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