she’s like a creek, man.

she’s like a creek, man.
i can keep walking her length,
hoping to find where her waters end,
always finding the depths so enticing;
or i can jump over her and walk
amongst the trees who feed from her.
but she’s so rising, soon to drown them
before i can escape her banks, her shore.
yet i leave her,
she remains
the longest line i’ve tried to follow,
less she finds me wandering
to where i am closed.
she is the breeze,
making love in me.