Walking Into the Water

	Michelle Paulsen
weekends of	walking into the	you grow tired	a strange sudden
in storms	walking into the water, the cotton clings, a part of you swirls, mutates- you regain the weight of childhood, buoyant but ignorant...of anything, something dark deep determined. only your hair is truthful, that long blond halo cannot breathe, and now heavy and jealous, it wraps you up, pulls you down; a cocoon, you drown		staring at a naked
up on his			there is something
then there was the			it may be a
snowflakes are	fireflies for	driving in the	there is a
	2River