A Pale Scrawl
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Sink

7/18/2016

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Picture
I did not mean to come here
Or to dig my toes in the tepid sand
Wet beneath the surface and chilled

I did not mean to strip off my clothes
Sea glass and shell shards in my pockets
And wade into the darkly lapping waves
The breeze raising bumps over my skin

I did not mean to move my arms
Stirring the comb jellies to glowing
The outline of my body bioluminescent
Radiant in ways I have never been

I meant to go alone into the evening
To lose myself in the gloom
But now there is salt on my skin
A bell buoy sounding in the distance
Clanging in time with my breath
A metronome conducting me

Somebody told my mother that drowning was easy
And she believed them
Nobody told her not to believe dead men
Because they want you to join them
And they don't let you swim back
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