Holding water in her mouth,
She looked about to cry
The salt inside would eat her up
And leave her raw and dry.

She could indeed just knock it back
And swallow up the sea,
But this would give an endless thirst
That would not let her be.

You’d think why not just spit it out
Onto the golden sand,
Push through your lips that salty gulp
Erase the pain at hand.

But all she had to quench herself
Was this Pacific’s best.
She’d rather die this way in fact
Than drown like at the rest.