Crystal Nordic waters roam.

They watch me;
I waver.

I waver with no home.

I think they know I’d rather be
the widow of 1,000 minnows
than the wife
of
just
one
man?

Ah,
all the men have drowned at sea.

Ah,
all that is left, treads their bodies, is me.

Ah,
/d/i/s/e/m/b/o/d/i/e/d/s/h/a/d/o/w/l/o/s/t/a/t/s/e/a/

/T/h/e/……………………………………………………………………………………………re are two of me:
one fills their filaments, frees their form, flees the sea.
The other.

Are there three?

 

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