To my eye
Blue glass, slender and tall
I've known others see pewter
Gold or bone
But to me the fusion of sand and fire
Makes this cup my own.

Filled with water
Ice cold, reflecting moonlight
Silver liquid glimmering
To show me images
Seen nowhere but on this surface
This sea in my hand.

Sometimes wine
A glinting red, like blood
Will pour from this cup
I swallow more
Than I would have thought possible
The draught of life.

My eyes close
I feel the wind on my skin
Darkness closes round me
And now within
The chalice of conflation the voices mourn
They tell me all.