Flat out in a four star pool hot sun sparks cool water. Slow hands scull. High rise eyes blink or stare. If windows to the soul this glass reflects no depth. A skyscraper wears a concrete collar with a green-growth fringe but my mind shifts and I’m adrift in an old inner tube, cocooned by a dam wall, tree limbs, leaves and sky. Murky water masks what passes legs idling in warm currents that turn icy in an instant and I’m back looking up at mirror-faced windows that hide the lives they front.
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