How does one stay the same?
Are our bodies vessels containing some
water that flows in whirlpools and waves?

If too much is poured out from
within, are we then dried—
or rather if too much

is let in, does the tide
become silty and brown
and coagulate inside?

Or do whirlpools that spin downward
twirl and turn counterclockwise
as the gulls above are thrown

offcourse, circling recursively, for dry
land to perch and rest on until
they begin to diagonally glide

and fall in stillness,
into the whorls that
bury their worn quills

as it silently draws back

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