You sit in a cell and I burn candles of evergreen,

Capsized at times by the small waves at my feet,

We spent so much time in the mountains,

We forgot to see/k the ocean reverently,

I was a child of the river and you a lock to my key,

You insisted I held them all and once over birria tacos and dulce de leche, it was true,

Now who am I? Who are you?

I’m a wall of text to some, a beating heart, to you.

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