Sometimes I must contain rivers 

greater than my banks

and

I wonder,

just what it would be like to be you.

Limbs moving so,

thought dangling here and here,

and a curl,

tongue licking there

and eye gazing upon scenes 

I could never see exactly

the same way.

Within these banks I capture moon

lighting the way

but in the flood

life flows too fast

and grand

for understanding to catch me.

Yet it does,

eventually,

it always does.

Recount to me what it’s like being you

and perhaps

both our banks will expand to hold

a whole lot more of forever.