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  • I peek from the surface
    all appears well,
    they are asleep,
    the stars twinkle, the boat cradle rocks,
    the breathing is steady
    the first of the children jump lithely on
    their little boats glide out of the family harbour
    the sky and water still in silvery whisper

    I turn over and swim back headfirst
    to my world of movement and clear voices
    one could stay down here,
    but one always comes back
    It has become regimen,
    the only path recognized to be my truth
    There is so much yet to see
    so many more to hold out for
    maybe the quorum can sense
    maybe the exchange can begin
    maybe this fine separation, this biofilm
    can finally part

    I wear my day voice well
    the night voice has always been deviant
    prose threatens towards poetry
    the wave moves to and fro
    Maybe we see intersections
    of our own earned truths,
    in the cradle of this movement

    So when it is silver light once more
    I swim up and come,
    to peek again
    from the surface of the inside,
    looking outside.
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