We Drink From Tiered Fountains


Are you intrigued?

We drink from tiered fountains when we’re thirsty. Call it poor etiquette, barbaric behavior, or a health code violation, and we’ll just laugh you out of your own courtyard until the moon comes mad in the night; howling dares up at the gods to come join us in your bed.

We drink wild, and thunderous libations not made for us, but hell we down em’ and taunt you to say something vivacious – with such a fire that livacious might be considered a word –¬†Actively engaged in living energetically; abounding with life; being in a pure state; with more to lose than a lascivious candle watching its wax melt down and drip on hot iron rather than flesh.

I watched your dark clouds roll in, and your heavy atmosphere coalesce long before the cool kids turned you into songs about what you do to their wind chimes and dream catchers.

Ages back it was just us and the moon.
No other bodies or forces mattered.

Now the force is with everyone and,
no one has a clear read.

I won’t go back, I have put foot to this field,
and on the other side is my death or cleansing calamity

And I’ll tell you why when get there

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