This river flows on forever,
forging the golden horizon
to a place where there is

no swimming, only drowning;
no walking, only water.

It carries your body,
arms across the chest
and two coins placed
over my eyes, finally open,
fused with moving current,
having found that the challenge
is not to stand still and watch,
but to walk without touching
the ground, to dance,
even when you’re perfectly free,
wandering between open sewers
and the colourful smells of one
more world I have been wayward
in, all cosmic overwhelm and
the miracles of ordinary people.

So kneel, old friend, kneel
before this sea where there is
no swimming, no singing:
only thunderous silence
and waves so sweet
you can breathe them
if you forget, for a moment,
what makes the difference
between water and open space.

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