High Tide

My new frother whisks up a storm   

inside the cobalt blue of my teacup.

The airy foam rushes

to my lips like high tide.

The surf’s swirl rolls down 

my throat and warms 

this waking body,

then floods up to my flushed 

face before gravity pulls it 

back to the blue.

I close my eyes.

I swallow the sea.