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Not a thing happened this morning
but nothing did not happen. All are here,

awake, in the next room, politely
not a-swarm, and slightly missed.

Fold towels so they are ready
to be unfolded, I catch myself

not breathing, often. Then belly
breathe, scratch a laughter

from my lung. On the grass
undrowned, but often

almost drowning, content, just about
to drown.