feathers on the surface

the ugly duck.

the tardy swam.

the rasp of truth in my throat as the words spill up.

the moon his crown. the highway his spine. as he whistles away.

like a dying song.

what is the phrase about shoes that drop?

the other. that's the one no one wants.

the aesthetically displeasing duck. the supposedly forthcoming swan.

each swims alone in pools lit by none but the moon. where i float stomach to the sky contemplating how they differ.