The Water’s Edge

As I walked down to the water’s edge I knelt and plunged my right hand in,

increasing the rivers density, I watched my hand dance until I thought the river may

run dry, that my hand may never return to me.

I was wrong, my hand soon returned and it hurt like hell.

Then the river dissipated, cruelly, as I was now struggling to comprehend

dying among the scorching sand-dunes.

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