Cardamom-
Among the allspice and ginger
In this Chai Tea
Within a chipped ceramic mug
Enclosed by trembling hands
The spicy scent enveloping the room
Nearly overpowering

And I stood consumed by the odd reflection
Of the white of my skin in the window
Letting the weight of the tea
Push down on my soul

He was there, or was it the tea?
Heavy heart beating a sad rapture
His knuckles knocking at my door
I dared not turn around, but thought
He surely must have heard me
Saying, “Come in!”

My gaze was fixed-
What a miserable sight!
Seeing myself in my entirety
The house of me formed from flesh -
And unoccupied

He knocked again, and again
I could hear it so well and I did so wish
He would just open the door -
Until I realized the handle was
On the inside, not the out

Breaking the solidarity of my fixation, I stood
To open the door, yet stopping half-way
I watched it as it lay open -
Slightly ajar

The banging stopped, and I thought I heard
Him walking away -
Or was it in?
I finally took a drink of my Chai tea
Intoxicated and full -
Was it the tea, or was it He?