You Take the Sea; I’ll Take the Land.
Then, growing cautious of air currents,
my ears will extend to points,
nose become a snout, eyes flinty.
I will grow a coat of hair to thwart the wind,
jointed limbs that angle to take a fall.
Your sides will be sleek to cut the water,
your face an arrow, even eye-lids planed to nothing.
Your skin will have the dapples of flowing liquid,
drop-shaped scales. By then, of course,
we will not know each other at all.
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