SWIMMING OVER LONDON A woman is swimming over London, a fox turns up his face to see her pass, there are blackbirds in the sleeping streets, a pear tree, luminous with blossom: it’s the dream she always has, the dream where she’s touching a cloud – The night is a tide she is pulled by while a taxicab slumbers underneath, and a robin is a fish who sings from a treetop of coral below her: it’s the dream she always has, the dream where she’s dancing through air – Aerials point like signposts until all the houses are gone, and fields give way to a beach where the ocean is calling her name: it’s the dream she always has, the dream where she’s swimming over London – where she sings to the stars like a mermaid and darkness is a murmur in her hair.
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