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sailor’s delight I wonder, if I sit here long enough, if I would become part of this reef; the dark mangroves curling between my arms, toes; mistaking my bones for long bits of pale coral; the lizards, resting in the shade of my thighs, their long tails, curled up like brown, thin, birthday ribbon. Even the smallest hermit crabs would make their way up to the rims of my ears, their tiny, frail voices, finally audible—the larger male complaining about not enough sex; the slightly smaller girl, complaining that he loves his job more than her…I wonder if the two of them had (continues) -17- considered moving in together. I would want to ask them, but my mouth would be brimming in a small lagoon, filled by high tide, with two tiny fish, darting side to side, waiting for the next big wave to escape…That's what I would do, if I were a crab. I’d find a larger, pre-owned shell we both could fit into— just enough space for two desks, and a small coffee pot. And we would drive our shell RV, with our many Fred Flintstone crab feet up to the edge of the reef every night, our scuttling legs hanging out over the delicate shell; our four balloon eyes watching the island sky turn from yellow to deep sailor's red. -18- ...

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