One more

A draft.

Dark Swimming

An everyday mystery
enmeshed in flesh,
the dark swimming
from one to another
that results in a third;

a third so small she
can be held in the crook
of an arm, cradled
and rocked, this small
sighing and crying

image of the two of us,
mirror in the flesh
who came from nowhere,
who came from a moment,
who makes real what isn't

seen. An everyday mystery
no less deep because we
make it happen; in the stillness
of the night of who we are,
another life comes to be

out of air, out of nowhere
or even out of us,
it doesn't matter because
the mystery is darker
than that dark, dark swimming

that brought her home to us.

Very different in mood and tone from the one below, and possibly one of a series. Will depend upon what it is upon redraft.