Free Writing Excercise

Sort of winging it...

I'm a lovely orb of madness,

jumping and wrestling with work.

The tea is noticeably hot, 

so I sip, sip it slowly.

Steam emits from the cup,

prolonging my fervor.

Trickling down into the cavern,

becoming a thick pool of ginger.

I toss over to my side,

it falls over and over.

The taste reminiscent of yesterday,

when we supped together.

So hot it scorched our tongues,

yet swallowed with pure delight.

A sensual union of unusual sameness,

with a ticklish hand upon the circular table.

And beyond the candlelight,

we're calling this name. 

Author's Note

Simply writing at will...