my new tea set

By Daniel Johnstone

bone cracked china can still hold
whatever liquid I please. I imagine
it shocks to drench in cold earl grey,
an ice cube on a decaying tooth.

I hook the cup on my ring finger 
until the hand, handle shatters 
spilling whatever liquid I thought 
could be held. it does not matter

if my tea set quivers when the 
kettle screams. maybe if my lips
taste dust on a gold-plated rim
I may finally learn how to keep

my drink warm— tempered cold. 
and then, just maybe, I could try
gentle washing before crying 
over my inconsolable breaks

Daniel Johnstone (he/him) is a queer poet based in Scotland. Outside of writing, he is a student doctor and suicide hotline volunteer. His recent work is forthcoming in Gutslut Press and Celestite. His poetry inspiration is his partner, Carl Alexandersson. For tweets and twitterings: @danjoh_