Water in the glass

Borrows the room’s temperature 

And contours ice shavings

With tepid ripples. Exposed bone 

Set awry inside their voice

Functions like a sewer grate.

Holds the shavings 

At 

A

Tongue 

Tip

Distance, allowing liquid to filter past

Inducing tingles 

To tissue. 

How’d the shivers come to this?

Cosmic metals in the company of stardust 

Operating from 

Orders given by bent Time and Space.

Anonymous molecules lounging in primordial soup

Splashing onto shore

A species who’d thrive to discover fire

And create I-Phones. 

Setting the glass down, 

Exclaiming the “Ahhh”

Of ancestral grumblings. 

Roots as indoor plumbing

Blooming tap water,

Roses picked 

Off the stem. Swallowed

To recognize and honor

Days gone by…

Don’t waste 

The water, don’t waste

The Soul.