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  • On the first night of Amy's marriage to Andrew,
    we dove into The Caribbean
    in various states of undress,
    passing champagne bottles lifted from
    the reception
    between each other
    in The Sea.

    Moments earlier,
    on a roof above the party,
    an Israeli man detailed for us
    his entire history with violent dogs,
    as we smoked cigars.

    But now, in The Sea
    I lean over to float on my back
    the sky is round
    like a fish-eye lens for a camera,
    it's edges distorting to accommodate a wider view.

    Later I'll stare down at my feet
    caked in sand
    and draw a bath
    to wash the salt away.
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