Get Well River

I have been thirst for too long.

I have called myself a dry throat

porous and angry,

irritated

like skewers of hot salt

falling down my guts

and you are the ocean,

the well water,

the water of a river that flows,

the rain droplets at dawn

if I kneel down

after my face has been slapped

by vines and branches

if my dusty broken toes alleviate

themselves in your cold nook

if my hands reach

your crystal surface

sunlit and covered

by a green canopy

I will forget myself