H2O

Think of me
a lake
and plunge into me,
my spring.
Your moistened tips
do render me
lazy
with dis-use.
I drive
a frantic urge
away from
white springs of
sea
where you have
drained me
of my
flood waters.
Think of me
a lake
with rapids
frozen still
where only
sweat streams
keep me
damp.
But unlike lakes,
I will not
feel you wet
with ease,
for I have dried
into
a brook
that's lost
its route
into
the
sea.