Cold Tea And Sympathy Poem by David Archer
Cold Tea And Sympathy
As the television played to an empty room
we fell apart in the kitchen;
cups of untouched,
unsuguared conversation
brewed in my mouth
but I said nothing.
You said nothing but swallowed hard
and that was the last time
we spoke about love.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: sympathy,television
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8/29/2026 1:43:23 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
