What you and always. What I, by
remembrance. In sight of
stillwater. Like wrapped in furs overtight,
the carry of past saga while lying
bareback on stones rolled glassy by
sleepless surf. As run with legless drift
through and through. Deposit leftover
energy. A gift of maybe no before
reach past the inner to what, reach
for the lake. As swimming
to a waiting breast. In shush
and suckle and leave behind
a skein of evaporating wakes.
From the beginning of existence,
the very end.
