Lethe

I swim across the river, let it drag
The last of me from me, and I am new.
I feel the dregs of me begin to lag
And other feelings floating into view.
Am I myself? I do not think I am,
Nor am I anything I recognize.
The center of my mind is on the lam,
And as the water of the river dries
Upon my skin, I am renewed, refreshed,
Made whole, more whole than I had been before.
The parts of me that lately were unmeshed
Are integrated now inside my core.
But still, whose core? Who am I now? I know
Only that the old me has let go.