rejoice that our lips
did not permit more stragglers,
more detail, more vulnerability
toward those to whom it does not belong.
for the first time,
i don’t want to go anywhere.
i want to stand Here and let
the rushing water flow on its own,
past my toes, over my chilled skin;
let it pull my hair forward over my face,
blind me and pass me by
instead of carrying me along.