I am

Sorry
but all you say
is liquid.

I am
but a membrane.

You may not
recognise
the crystals
but they can heal
my holes
your dryness
or someone else’s loch-Ness.

I only give birth. I do not
recall the pain. Or the exact
formation of the toy-soldiers painted who
are only there to execute
the wishes of the child
I only set free for you
to fulfil its’ birthright.

My words orchestrated are
what I was
I must be free
of debts
and them.

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