Language is the liquid
I pour out for you today.
In my own height of arrogance
I request your adoration.
I spill to you all of my fears,
dry out all of those bitter days.
I drip with the anticipation
of your moment-felt words.
And remain shallow in the depths
of the identity that you have chosen
for me.

In time I will carve
my way through your stone.
Flood your heart
with raging rivers.
I will bring you the joy of movement
and the illusion of freedom.
But my gravity pushes me away.
Even as you play in the waves
you have accepted at my passion,
I already have gone following
the first crash.
I am off to find my ocean
and you were but a stone
for me to drown.
Even a boulder only delays
my inevitable path.

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