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I am sun off water,

spirit, which takes form

Through transformation.


Lowest belly creature,

To this fairytale life.

Yet, I am lost,

Somehow wandered

Between safe shores.

Water everywhere.

And the mud swallows,

Who make their nests

In the river banks,

Desperate for me.

You see, a pretty thing

Can suffer, too:

Frantic beating of wing.

In this short life,

I will both sing,

And cease to be.