8. Reality a cup of tea

A cup of tea. 
Sweet, Still, Soundless

Fresh to touch,
intense sensation

Heat from where?
Hot from what?
Kettle boils from infinity
And loses its poise within me. 

Compose a letter to this;

Never let tea be hot nor cold nor up nor down
Infinite, ready, here, now.
No time nor space
Only lack thereof


Sweet, still, soundless.