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Night Swimming MAG
Shadows fuse together
As she sinks below
The kettle’s rim.
She is her own key
Alone on the milky ripples.
It’s my turn. I’m naked
Save for the brush
Around me.
My shins flash white
and wane to black.
Together, in the water,
We are dark things,
Emerged from limestone karsts.
We’re all that’s alive now
In this night, in this kill.
© Anonymous
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