i spent all night binding fish until
they lay still in the water like a photograph.
i held my breath for nineteen years always waiting
to wake up in the river. surface is a place 
where you finally inhale or else bury yourseld. 
swimming, the sun is a bear's maw. i roast a rainbow & devour
as if it were the day's catch; this is what a promise is good for. 
singing comes from all my drains so i plug them with socks. 
it's august so the grass begins to tell rumors all night. 
"the poet is really a girl inside a boy inside a girl."
in response, i cut my tongue out & release it into the creek. 
cross my legs to picture the fin but it doesn't come. 

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