In your hands I am liquid
—You call me water—
And I slip through your fingers,
wet you. Am I transparent? Clear?
More a lens, refracting, so you can't tell
how (or if) I've bent
what you see.
I magnify and quench
satiate and swell
saturate and shrivel
See how your fingers wrinkle?
Those same fingers
I slipped through--wet
because you
call me
water.

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ChaoSpirals