I didn’t drink. But I watched. And then I saw it: the broken coconut .
This was not survival. This was worship. I didn’t drink
Where the jungle whispers and memories ferment. I didn’t drink
The tent became a shroud. The shroud became a root bed. And the root bed became the foundation for a new generation of ferns. We spend so much time trying to conquer nature. We bring tents to shield us. We bring grogue to blur us. We bring coconuts to feed us. I didn’t drink
