segunda-feira, 27 de março de 2017

What swims in you

Point to the lagoon
Now its divided into strips
watery dips

Each fish a flapping
Each splash a rippling
Born in the sun

In the depths
something big swims
dark and obscured

None admit it's presence
Books don't show it's picture
some beast whose mere presence could be felt

just beneath the surface of your skin

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