If I dive, like a swan for the water, it reminds me that I am a mother and I am a daughter.

And this gander muscle, all pumping and cracking, is wild and wallowed.

Lick me from the rim of this dissipating thing.

And swallow.

It’s fine; like dining on balconies and overdosing on alchemy.

I am acquired.

Throw the bits, like the tips of your edges, the fits of your ledges and sit by the pond of me.

And think.

Drink, what you need, what you see, what you leave.

And dream.

It could never be deep enough, for you.

© ryan