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Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Swimming in Silence with a capital S
Wading up to my knees
the wind gives me a chill.
It is not summer yet
I was fooled,
those meteorologists never get it right...
Why do I listen to them?
Someone stole my towel
Not surprising, it is fucking Brooklyn
and the G train is coming.
My feet are cold
but are they are wet
they tasted something
and I’m filled with regret,
salty with joy.
Does he know how the thought of him
runs in my blood?

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