she used to talk of the water's self
raging swells seeking vengeance
swooning tide courting the shore
timid waves arching with the wind.
side by side, we wove into quiet brush
her calloused hand running through tallgrass
stopping occasionally to press me against one of her trees.
we laid in her favourite place,
a sanctuary of mottled light
as her fingers fluttered around me -
my eyelashes, the back of my knees
the curve of my throat
coming to rest on my ribs
her eyes cast over every surface,
twin suns haunting the sky
brightening everything they touch.
she had this half-smile
and she leaned into me, whispering soft
"we will be ancient as the redwoods
and harder in heart than any stone"
she would break into an absurd grin
and we took off into the forest
weaving through the grove,
her laughter hot on my heels.

in her essence, she was rain;
always flowing somewhere new
recalculating and reforming
perpetually in motion,
earth-bound by choice.
long after our sunny days turned dark
when she became older than her redwoods
her heart harder than the imposing stone bluffs
she replanted herself by the water's side
content to dance to the tide's harmony
until she gets called back home.