Another Sip

Vainglorious for all to see as the world washed itself new, it wasn't as if you ate the last pickle from the jar, or the first ripe peach from the tree. See, I am drinking another cup of coffee as I search for meaning in your tea leaves, but comprehension, much like your coat of armor, fails. Try walking another mile. Try drowning in a thimble. Try falling up as stars surround. This, then is your duty, your ever bound success. I hate to tell you, I'm no oracle. Only, I talk rather loudly, insisting that your feet be bare and your head bowed before you take another sip of me.