Liquid

These walls hold ghosts of you

You are lying in the bed, sitting at the desk,

Dreaming of what could be

If.

You look out at the fields that stretch out like skin and muscle

Flexing toward the river that knows my body well.

In the summers that rushing water has cradled my floating form,

Smeared me in the offerings of its belly

Covering my naked body in blue-gray clay

Til I am coated in a hardened shell

Like an egg.

My soft parts run the risk of slipping and dripping out of my container

My heart just might slide out along with the rest

Into the river and be washed away.

I am that unprotected sometimes.

Today

I am merely a yolk

Longing to slip down your throat

Or to transform into something that flies beyond these trees and mountains

To places yet undiscovered by either of us.

That we might explore together.