leaving on a good note

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she sees: shimmering grandeur

from Egyptian men

spear-handed

in ancient loin clothes,

driving oversized SUVs on sand streets

in the middle of the dessert.

 

the distance not important,

she walks, light years, to Tibetan temples,

sleeps with monks,

but silence is suffocating.

 

so, drowning under ocean blue she

flies with fish,

resilient and net-worth uncaught,

loyal to their tangled and swelling friend.

 

“A mermaid, a mermaid”

Australian men ring out, but alas,

she is not more than a bloated corpse,

plebian-scales attached from eating her legs



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