Ode on Humidity

What am I if not what happens

when I try to run away?

Water falls out of me like

an opinion. I’m like a screen

door banging between two rivers.

Dear air, what’s inside me

you’re so desperate to take?

I put on the Atlantic like a sweater.

My head bobs on the surface

of a lake I’m named after.

Where do I belong?

My head asks. My body,

exasperated, answers.