and when you leak from me,
i hurry to capture it, 
my tongue outstretched 
to catch the drops of you 
that fall down 
the topography of me.

you explored me, 
climbed my mountains 
and swam my rivers. 
you tasted the berries of my forest 
and drank from my streams. 
you hiked all of my valleys 
and suffered through my desert.

when you told me you knew me, 
i believed you.

you wrote odes to my sycamores, 
and sang ballads about my ocean. 
you lamented where the forest fire 
took my pines away 
and you cried 
for the flooded valley at my back door. 

but a land is far more than it's geography.

it's the people that change it, 
like a timeless wind 
that erodes my cliffs, 
and the new forest 
that springs up 
amongst the charred pines; 

i am deeper than my oceans. 

and when you leak from me, 
i cry not for the time 
you spent with my land, 

but for all the things 
you were yet to see.

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