The graceful ceramic arch holds on tight to its delicate cup, its eternal companion. The arched handle waits patiently to hear the cup tell stories of mint leaves and jasmine flowers that bloom in warm water. The handle knows the heat of the hand and fingers draping over every curve. The cup can speak about warm lips that are sometimes painted with berry stains. Together they wear caffeinated tattoos that could never be washed out and tiny chips from years in the dishwasher. The handle and the cup are dressed in a lavender glaze that glows during sunrise. Together they are the tea cup.
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