I'd been testing out the weight of it,
like a rain boot in dense mud,
training my tongue to sink slowly towards goodbye
as it rained through the week,
and the water sunk toward the hot core of it all,
down among the roots and compost,
pooling into coffins—
the dead, drowning and bloated, caught
between tidings. 

Can you float
if I give you my tears?

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end rhyme adversary

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