Hands as Handholds

We are such mutable creatures, 

amalgamations of intentions and experiences,

so extraordinarily malleable. 

I have enjoyed watching you melt and mold.

I have tied our wrists together with red ribbon

and allowed fate to fold and manipulate my mindset,

my desires, and my intentions --

all the while watching as you transform similarly.

Time is such a ubiquitous pressure, with change

as it's inevitable product.

As minutes and seconds trickle down the back of my throat,

I watch almost every facet of my existence alter. 

The only name I've fought to keep in my vocabulary is yours --

all else has shifted and swayed so violently

that I have lost my grip on many other people, many other names.