i was once bird-born and drank from a well; then i was a fountain and had more than youth or age to offer, more than truth or falsity to tell. now i’m co[mpou]nductor and organic s[ynth]olid, and i’m rolled over fibers and fingers. i’ve been called mighty, but it’s only where i’ve bled that any of my influence lingers.
i can give you a new name—my own once meant “feather”—shapedrifter, pact-sealer, translator of two senses, my [gra]phonicognate is a cage, but what i craft can always cut its tether.