Cool Womb, Fathoms Deep

A morning dip in the local lake ….

Cool womb,

Dark mirror.

What lies beneath

That satin skin?

Bright foil

As ducks come down,


Submerged branches

Waiting like a petrified forest

For divers.

Thrill of fear

Fathoms deep;

Of mouths with teeth.

Brim with life, with death.

I cut you, I caress you

From a foreign dryness.



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