and when you leak from me,
i hurry to capture it,
my tongue outstretched
to catch the drops of you
that fall down
the topography of me.
you explored me,
climbed my mountains
and swam my rivers.
you tasted the berries of my forest
and drank from my streams.
you hiked all of my valleys
and suffered through my desert.
when you told me you knew me,
i believed you.
you wrote odes to my sycamores,
and sang ballads about my ocean.
you lamented where the forest fire
took my pines away
and you cried
for the flooded valley at my back door.
but a land is far more than it's geography.
it's the people that change it,
like a timeless wind
that erodes my cliffs,
and the new forest
that springs up
amongst the charred pines;
i am deeper than my oceans.
and when you leak from me,
i cry not for the time
you spent with my land,
but for all the things
you were yet to see.
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