to the cockles of your heart

When we get to the part 

where we fight

I’m not up in arms 

But I close.  And

like cactus 

grow my defenses, as I turn into 

 liquid within.

And there really is nothing of us.

Because we/are me.

We are 

everything my mind has grown.

We are us:

fluid. Fighting shy of your nihilism.