Cheers to nothing

I take an empty cup of kindness. Expectantly.
ought I receive for my aesthetic sacrifice?
The poem bereft of words

A dry, soulless,
immaculate uncertainty,

gossamer tulip wings limping, prancing,
(no! no!)
(Not verbs, we want nouns! Decorative, ornamental nouns! And don't say that ugly "adjective!")

on the shore she waits, 
ear to the Earth
A sensitivity to butterfly effects,
and beauty returns to her in a bottle from the sea,
but it was only a grocery list.