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  • Taryn Dunkin

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Updated: Jul 4, 2021

Woven webs of hollow sticks delicately drape the lakeshore like matchsticks awaiting ignition Will they hold my weight? I cannot yet swim here ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I tilt my head at the pink sun wobbling in the sky eyes watering willing it to stay there I squint at the smoke obscured horizon⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ A bead of sweat breaks the surface of the water and divines into unknown depths for home The smoke dissipates and I see at last a fish a wink of sunlight a ripple




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