nothing bounces back
nothing bounces back
nothing bounces back
these days
streaming inwards in the late mornings
streaming outwards in the early evenings
taking steps forth and back
like nothing else here does
you are an estuary you are a river
flowing in both directions every day
allowing neither cleanness nor purity to settle in at any time
allowing only mud to move
you are a mouth at times more than 7 miles wide distributing mud
with waves of sealed memories
you are a stream without peace or freedom to arrive
welcoming cool sour air soaking grief
a beauty so subtle I have to dig for you
my eyes are open wells
anything dead coming back to life hurts