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I drag a finger through the mud and press the heel of my palm firm into the wetness,

forcing the earth upwards over the plastic surface.

Rivulets run into pools, which run into torrents.

I hear Noah sighing. The rain is incessant today. 

A Black sea rising.

The Gods surge in to claim new lands and ancient pathways submerge forever.

The surface breaks. Water seeps in and I drown a little.

Deep below the sediment shifts.

An aborted birth, a religious submersion, a daily obsession and an untimely death are all misremembered in Spirewell

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