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The River

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The dirt beach
hugs to the wake-ridden
river flow,
a strip of unearthly green
which laps at mud
and our wayward toes.

In its body
I know the
long fish dwell
their silver sides
slithering and cold.

It is a beautiful
mirror with no bottom,
no end I can see
and I sink down
because I can.

There in the silt
I breathe and my
body snakes away.



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