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Wet

We sit on the beach and smoke,

Secrets drizzling down our throats,

Drilling for oil on the ocean floor

Where the neon jellies live.

 

The words get caught up in our throats,

We slither like eels in the coral reef

Where the neon jellies live,

And mate by swimming in paint.

 

We slither like eels in the coral reef

And ignore how wet we are,

As we mate by swimming in paint,

Greens and blues melting together.

 

We never care how wet we are

Or how much sea we swallow,

Our bellies swell like open eyes,

Bursting and spraying our faces

 

Where we can't help but swallow

What we spit at our faces,

From the oil we drilled from the ocean floor

Where the neon jellies live

 

And die while washed up on the shore.

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c
Written by
chaotic-melodic
American
Published
Aug 31, 2010
Lines·Words
21·135
Notes

© Cory McQueen

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