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Everybody swims in the shallow end by the shore
near the streets that flow away toward their own apartments.
They splash and play and laugh all day. Their ripples fade
right after they’re made and by evening’s arrival
they’ve gone away and the beach is more silent
than the fossilized corpse of a single nameless serf trapped in a tar pit.

Meanwhile, I subtly wade for my life in the deep end
of the ocean, hidden behind the curtain of the horizon.
The icy sea water tranquilizes my nerves and numbs my muscles
and whispers into my mind, “Go to sleep, my child.”

Critique

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