Beneath the darkened canvases of celestial dreams,
where silver tides brew, in steaming swirls,
a cosmic dawn whispers fierce aromas, enchanting and dreadfully powerful.
Sip it gently, this empress of night, this churner of hidden galaxies.
What tales do the curled wisps of jade steam tell?
Of moonlit veils and guarded thresholds; sit swift upon the stars,
for the night lover brews her predilections fierce,
sipping from the cylinder of the ancients, a quake in crispy mirrors.