the water shifts — a soft sliver through a lasso of time, baked in the glint of sun & frothed with a milky sugar glaze. this passage, passing, downstream, in trickles, then in bouts, then in torrents, pressed up against rocky slabs in a victorious deluge, like triumph over what has been conquered, and persistence in what is left to be conquered still. but more so, a gentle waning of river rush; tender sloshes against sand, lapses over moss. pondering, as i do, these travels of mind & breath.

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