"Patience"

On gilded edges the water danced for a moment, a clever grace that tickled Atlas' balance. Concerned but firm, the aged moon gave notice to the tide and sent the waves rushing onwards, down along the walls of the chamber. The dusted details of gold, emboldened by the fiery hands of artisans, gleamed once again through crystalline droplets that soon adorned its every surface.

I stood and watched it overflow, and felt myself lean forward, entranced. With eager palms, I held the cup to take a sip of the water, only to have my pleasure enlivened as the cooled water invoked the taste of wine on my tongue.

Consciousness, reserved by its state in reality, took notice to this luxury and bid me to drink only what I had already spoiled upon my lips. Submitting guilt to my hasty desire, I enjoyed the warmth in my mouth and returned the vessel to its place. Youthful and unlearned, I could not yet appreciate the refinements of my drink.