I drip to the nearest solid object,

Not too soft to soak through

Yet not to slick that I slide off

I glide to different objects as I try to hold onto to each for a short period of time

I keep falling...

but sometimes I mistake it for a slope.

I try to stay in a spot as long as possible

Because the more I fall, the more I lose of myself

Until I reach the one

The one leaf that holds the puddle 

The pool of the rest of me...

The other parts of me...

It completes me...