The Final Cup Poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul

brimming full
steam rises in the chill morning
like memories lifted from my mind
hot liquid days with passion
and the hotter sting of tears
tastes explode in my mouth
a mixture of sorrow dark
and love sweet
ritualistic sips of time past
wandering ancient towns
with slow exploration and wonder shared
the cup drains
and I am filled
with warmth and regret
we've come to this end
nothing is left,
save the morning chill
and the sun
pressing against my face.