![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQC0bKtGBJB4cY9529VO5o6wi3cC3RR5CrTJqJ5AE9D3bYmwzaHKmXjWXselshmq6jOqbaJH21KWtucJKuSl0FSu8D2BMWzCPjkTdzihPbDLKag_f3sDL96FGjrl-YmV6-TRv3oDvjqSA/s400/ThunderballCave-underwater.jpg)
UNDERWATER
In a forest underwater
Is where I breath,
Open my mouth
That I kept closed on land.
I was suffocated,
Stiffed
In schoolrooms, parlors, on pavement,
And in imitation Italian ristorante
With a black hair, middle aged woman.
Underwater,
I'm alive,
Salt-soaked mosses tickle my lips,
Coral caresses my caves.
Up above water,
Only documents and dry lives.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Poetry Magazine
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