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78 Reptilian In the pool’s clearest depths where rocks weight silt, I want to be scaled, gilled and slitted. Again and again I must succumb to lungs. Above, the boys dive off towering boulders, the girls squeal. Ancient rituals of see me see me fly, see me see you, are here, below, reassuring. Then crazy scattering: the cobra splattering fear into the burning day – and nowhere for me to go but under. The swaying reptile snakes noiseless, essing across the surface of my ceiling. ...

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