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The Disappearance of Thwaites
She failed to fall
so I caught her,
dragging her down
beneath the foamy brine.
A fitting end
to a siren’s life:
Obscure beneath
the froth of frivolity.
She told me life
is just a game;
a chessboard set
for the players’ next move.
Her queen is lost,
her king is toppled.
Floating, she fades
into her oblivion.
Her vengeance comes,
measured and swift.
Watery hands
seize my throat in their grip.
I hear her words
as a warning now.
The tide rises.
With her final act, I drown.
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