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I’m curious – or at least beyond my vocabulary – what do you mean by “you run, in fear, from your cups”? Wondering if this is an Americanism I’m unaware of, or I’m just massively missing the point, but the only cups I know are physical vessels/trophies, cupped shapes, and “in one’s cups” meaning sorrowfully drunk.

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Great question! I was using it in the last way you mentioned, as a reference to trying to stay sober during tough times. Thanks for reading!🫶

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Thank you. I happened on your post in a moment of extreme frustration — deep anger over the behavior of those in power right in my own community as well as the pressure against speaking out from even those who love and agree with me. Poetry is medicine for moments like these, when my own rage calls up the tower energy, wanting to break up the intolerant, NIMBY elitist forces that are so keen to protect the “historic character” of a community that they have abandoned all pretense at caring about any of the human values that I used to believe were the very foundation of what defined character.

I’m finding a way forward that makes room for my own tears.

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