The Cup

Against a blue backdrop, in white flecks, the clouds playfully spread themselves out. Sand trickled in a thin stream from my fist. Only your hand kept it from flying off completely. And little suns leapt across my skin like children playing on a playground. The waves caressed like a feather bed. That day seemed to have no end, no edge at all. Freed from the hands of the clock, and setting my phone aside, we trade the role of the hamster on its wheel for a palace and a throne instead of a tent. Breathing in deep the iodine of the sea breeze, I'll walk barefoot along the shore. I've put all my feelings on repeat. Sometimes there's no need to think with your head. I'll relax my body and fill the cup — not with wine, but with the energy of the sky. I'll paint life in a billion colors. Let God keep watch, so no devil interferes.