Spinning and overflowing

We would spin and spin and spin

If I could dream again maybe I would run east through the valleys of Chicago brick apartment blocks and greasy shops and keep going until I ran deep into the waters of the lake at sunrise and dove deep into the crystals of the water and the hollow crest of the water and the gleamy shifts of the water and then somehow in the depths my skin rushing would be clean and so cool like dolphin skin and we would spin and spin and spin and the sun would split up into ribbons and the city would only be nesting shadows and tangled briar stars and our eyes would be fire crescents and our thoughts would crash ahead of us like fins carrying us all the way to the bottom of the deeps where we might hear a laughing music of tin bones and copper lungs and soft cravings, and then at the end of my dream, I would wake up no longer in the water, but asleep like a scavenger bird dreaming of being eaten.

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