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Drowning Lessons

Gleaming, glistening, clear water screaming,
I can see hairs surface to air that licks the river,
as the bubbled-breaths grow thinner, dimmer.

Next to the bench where you slept, steering touchy summer bliss,
it wasn't the river undergrowth that let it let you end like this.

He ate you and bate you, with seedy river bathing,
you saw women- that wonder-
your salt-water plaything.

You counted fifths, he counted to 10
and you paddled on your knees,
bowing,
always bowing.
Perhaps, begging,
if you please.

Weeded tying -underlying,
as the faintness smells of water,
thirsty dying, blind-mans crying,
cleanest, slow-running spring time slaughter.
Written by pretty_normal (Pretty Normal)
Published
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