When a river meets the sea....

let me wash over you
like a river
meeting the sea,

as I carry my whole self
to your open bosom -
a clear stream
birthed somewhere
in the far away hills,
stones jagged, rounded,
hard yet yielding,
brown earth
mixed and tossed up
by ruthless waves,
waste and carcasses
of things
not needed any more,
and everything I thought
was not me,

let me wash over you
like a river
meeting the sea,
gathering herself,
with a longing,
a current,
unstoppable,
that she cannot fathom,
until when
she - the river
meets the open sea.