Consolation for introversion

In Uzbekistan they,

For friend or stranger,

Serve their tea only half way.

 

Parties may lounge and nap

Snores muffled by the comfort

As arms drape over eyes,

Blocking midday sun.

Bodies wrapped warmly

In company, and maybe

A breeze from the Aral,

Caspian, or (distant) Arabian

Seas. Content in moderation.

 

Full servings pour disrespect:

“Gulp this down and leave,”

The brimming cups say.

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