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I was swimming with you in a river
that was both rushing and still.
“How can that be?” you asked.
“Don’t ask,” I said.
In the calm after our lovemaking you said,
“Even the hardest thing is soft.
Pray in vain for those on the bank
who are deluded by stone.”
“I will,” I said.
“Is it time?” you asked.
“No, although we’re in it,” I said.
“Our bodies flowed into each other and then together.
There was a sea toward which we were headed.
How long we grew in the electric water
for only the second it took to name the river.
To shine in the setting sun before
we disappeared forever.”
Copyright 2021 Chard deNiord
Chard deNiord’s many books include In My Unknowing (Pitt, 2020).