Distracted over breakfast

[joel]

Distracted over breakfast, I forgot
the simple teabag sunken deep within
the near-black red translucent water of
my mug – now bitter more than delicate
and yet still drinkable: the memory
of taste more powerful than what I taste.
And you’re life bitter tea: still lovable
despite your acid bite since lovable
(as I recall you) somehow seems a waste
if disregarded simply if a wee
bit past its climaxed reach— though all of it
seems all so meaningless: a taste, a love
distracted over breakfast as I spin
a fairytale of wasted Camelot.