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The Pool Below

We stood staring down into the well,
the expectant drop between us,
you released a small, round rock into silence.
I glance at you and it bounces,
cascading off, before
gently being absorbed into the pool below.

The water begins to curl, up,
and suddenly it's much too thick to be water
and much too pink.
The power of its movement fills our eyes and ears.
Rushing and then rising between us,
pushing us back,
it escapes from its darkness.

I remember you, frozen still
behind the bubbling blood,
that so objected to that rock.
You turned and left me rooted
to be absorbed into the flow,
in its sticky, fluid memory.

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