View From My Window

Wet

Who, unlike the fish, would
know where to swim besides
the ocean?  The sky
is a big blue bowl of something
close to water, but not quite-
and when I reach out to touch
it I feel only air.  

My head is spinning with the lack
of oxygen; I can't seem to stop
myself from getting wet.  There
is a boat on the water; it has been
sitting there, motionless for a long time
as if it's trying to call back the
great white shark.  


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Wet

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