I am the breath you draw in when you wake in the night.
I am the taste of peachfuzz and cranberries.
I am the echo of a song.
I am the movement you make when you struggle to remember.
I am the crumbling redbrown of old, old blood.
I am the thing you seek in dreams.
I am the gleam of moonlight on a breaking wave.
I am the empty feeling just before you first bite into an apple.
I am the chime of a hundred strands of silver and jade beads.
I am the desire that rushes through you at an innocent word.
I am the first rhyme you speak on the first day of the year.
I am the waving grass beneath the shadow of a lighthouse.
I am the elegant dust of an ancient tome.
I am the shy glimmer of a moth's wing.
I am the cry of herons.
I am the arch of a branch over a still pond.
I am the vicious word that sours after speaking.
I am the tugging twang of a well-tuned guitar string.
I am the shape the clouds make when your back is turned.
I am every grain of sand in every river.
I am all the whispers you have overheard.
I am what brings you closer.
I am endless.
I am.