A Sip of Water

of water from a glass
sip by sip,
a glass full of time.

Second by second,
it trickles between salt and brine,
traveling through memory.

Although the most primal
of instincts,
it pauses.

I’ve been here since the beginning
of time and have grown since then.
Your taste is something I long to obtain.

Dry thirst, now moist
with a taste of infinity.
To quench true thirst
second by second.

It doesn’t break.
It doesn’t gasp
after the glass is empty.

It stares at the glass,
cold and vacant,
time scattered across its belly.

It thinks,
This is one of the best glasses
of water I’ve ever had.