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Call of the Mute Swan

In woven waterways you wade with water at your waist you can feel the fishes and just under your heels the shimmering of the eels.  You mimic as you might the female cassowary call and wait for the male to respond to the song your human tongue said wrong.  You were enervated by the sudden sight of land, slyly relocated: a geographic slight of hand.  But you were not the first to perceive the strange collision of the land with the sea but still you fainted and fell dividing like a cell.  Sensory apparatus lovingly sense themselves.  Caterpillars and butterflies lovingly sense themselves.  First triangulation of all the birds in the sky, then the strangulation of all the words, line by line. Sensory apparatus lovingly sense themselves.  Caterpillars and butterflies lovingly sense themselves.  Later on you had a vision: your skin was pale green and bore an incision on your spine like a stem, splitting nature’s hem.