My muscles tear for you,
infinitely small and subtle,
healing and tearing again.

In time, I am bent to fit you,
my edges sanding down, curves
softening, wrapping through yours,

less opposite, more flexible,
able to twist with your twistings,
sigh with your sighs,

wonder with your wonderings —
a multitudinous one.
I dissolve, I bend, I become.