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The white river slowed and deposited me, the brown river stone, in its shallow.
Discarded fragile, light spaces where brown once lived…
Gaping shells, pink, white iridescent surrounded.

I shall not covet your shimmer.

I look up through my watery grave and see a bright blueness I cannot understand.
Dismissing the false bright tricks of rippled sun,
I continue to stare until the azure gives way to blackness pinpointed by twinkling.

Whispers caress the edges of the white wash’s current crashes.
I hear a story that the twinkle is a rock so powerful it became a star.

One of those stars birthed me.
I am not just a thing ran smooth and safe by white waters.
When I break, my innards are dry and jagged and violent.

I discover my gravity.
Luis, Juan come, let’s dam this erosive river!
I recognize the same stardust in you.
We spark, combust, burst.
Our sediment intermingles and flows refusing drowning.

Now, the river runs brown.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/perfection/

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