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She Waded In
 
A half-moon beach
below the Camp -
escapees from the kitchens
renegades from the lines
 
leaving behind the shards
of a ceiling-flung glass -
the lights submerged
the bulbous fish
 
she waded in
she wouldn't stop -
smoked herself high
her head a cloud
 
she waded in
she couldn't swim -
she wanted to become
a seal, a mermaid
 
the sea was brown
as the kitchen's effluent -
she didn't care
her hair was smoke
 
her head became heavy
as a boulder -
we followed her
we called her back
 
she kept moving out
pleading with the sea
to fill her up
to take her under
 
we carried her back
her long flowery dress
strung like seaweed
her hair like tar
 
she was heavy as a boat
yet couldn't float -
we made a fire
with wooden ribs of chairs
 
she warmed and came alive again
her face took on a glow -
doors swung open and gaped
window-shutters nattered
 
police alarms on the promenade
we ran,we scattered -
left her with her hands
two moons,two gypsy maps
 
her hair dried into bladderwrack
her dress creased into wrapping-paper -
she folded up and threw
a gift to the fading fire.
 

 

 

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