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Baby, discovered

November 16, 2009

Every morning until yesterday, we slipped through the water like ghosts, cutting the fog that hugs the surface. We found peace, and solitude even while we sliced the water side by side.

Both of us want to return to that moment just before we realized our paddles had caught not seaweed but baby. Both of us want to close our eyes like him, ignore that his lips, eyelashes, earlobes had been eaten off by something that recognized it only as food.

I don’t know when we’ll return to the water. I don’t know when we’ll open our eyes again.

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