Let’s just say that we’ll meet
on the crook of the lake where the stream
pulls at the surface, ribbons and curls it,
invites it to leave
I’ll ask you to stand up
Look out over the edge of
The stream as it falls away lazily crawls away
and look to the bottom.

The first thing that you’ll notice
a reflection of you looking golden
Ripple and wavelet flashes of sunset,
a painting in motion
But if you can rally
push underneath
Refocus your eyes, adjust to the light
you’ll finally see me

I am the stream bed
Rocks and sand
Never quite static, never quite staying
Never complete

Don’t be fooled by the slowness of change
the creep of the currents of age
You’ll think that you know me, think it’s a good thing
and make your mistake

Because it’s not love
When you know me enough
By giving up watching, giving up listening
You’ll give up on us

Then we’ll sit where the grass stands high
watching the water run by
Splashes and whispers brushing my whiskers
and brightening your eyes.

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