being your "IF"

If I wear water,                                     
If I drink from dusk,
If I cut my lock,
And enchant the flinty musk;
If I pour like rain,
in parts yet to drain
out in this sea of subterfuge,
Could You tell me, Who would I be,
Brown or grey, faint or Huge?
If I wade
out of stale sleep,
and on your shoulder as I keep,
My fluttering wings,
spluttering buzz deep;
Would You not 
head to north,
And pet me like 
that geisha moth?
I dine with thine
on gasps of playful time,
at an edge of night,
an edge of day,
Then you say
you hit a hump,
And why do I neigh?
Get me water, Get me sky,
For I do no more rely
on the pylon
that inside me resides,
kindling prisms of ebony.
I want to take after those,
that light- house,
this sugar- cube,
that into your tea goes,
And tastes of pristine dew.
I am waiting, I am wanting,
Am I willing,
to seclude wilderness?
For if my 'if'
Dies of "IF",
Will an Other,
I create!