changeling

i was a leaf,
afloat, on the
river —

brushing up
against
the other
debris around

me.

but you were
a dam, wrought
tight —

limbs with
anvil weight
locking before

me.

and i was
a leaf, pressed
close —

the river
churning, surging
disintegrating

me.

so now i
am the river,
the river —
and the leaf.

bathing and
seeping and
becoming woven
within

you.

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