There is no time
like this when you are
the river too
mirrored, shattered consistent
you see your edges bend
you see your head collapse
you see yourself rapidly going nowhere
you laugh as a fish jumps out of your chest
then become stern about symbolism
Nothing breaks you
the way the river breaks you
integrate, scatter, integrate
like music, whose source and destination
cannot be found,
still
moves you.
Life has no shore
even upon death you slide
through a narrowed tributary
salt your fresh blood
and though no one has been waiting
you flood in, again, with abandon
to move and never arrive.