Covered with stuck-on
phrases and places and images
telling other who we are
who we want to be
who we want them to see
We carry our flask
from place to place
filling it with clarity
hoping it will satisfy
And it does
But there is also sulphur
chlorine
iron
granite
chalk
mold
haze
The aftertaste leaves us
hydrated but yearning
We dress is up with citric slices
We mechanize, purify, filter
Import -ant though it be
we demure, resist, choose thirst
But that moment we taste sweet
glorious pure water
of the high peaks
we empty the container of us
and fill it with what our souls have craved,
our taste buds ruined for all else.
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