This Is Not Water

There's a merging

where I hide deprived

A combining of a toxin

that feels like water

in a desert

But is not water

There's a river

guides and carries me

in calm beneath

Where community resides

Not of one or two

or three

  

Letting Things...

There are those things

so many

ratcheting toward agitation

I collect them

sorting, labeling

Until they bury me

and I can't find myself

in the accounting, calculating focus

That excludes

every part of the seconds

that make a day

true

I imagine them

    drifting from view