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In Venice,
I'm a boat, a fish, a swimmer
a mermaid, merlady
stretching seaweed-draped arms
barnacle-encrusted body
writhing slowly, twisting beneath
motorboats, tourist-loaded gondolas.
I walk, hoisting my damp self up stone steps
reclaiming my legs to wander
bridges, alleyways, canalsides -
memories clinging to red-brown stone,
centuries living in the air.
Yet I know, I know
I'm just another
enchanted traveler,
searching for an unearthly home.
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