The
door opens
then
a short step through
the
clap of thunder closes it
In
front the multi-tides
wash
away the shore
beneath
invisible feet
Floating
becomes drowning
drowning
becomes dying
Dying
is a vision of the surface
in
final eyes
a
glassy stare of amazement
perhaps
shock
this
always:
the
small surprise
at
the end of this box
of
Crackerjacks
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