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PJ Poesy Feb 2016
Peering into my briefly loosened imagination, water at the mouth came and was swallowed.

Tide was taken out, and lost life preserver sauntered off to setting sun.

Culling something to discriminate between:

Poseidon erupting,

tentacled eyelashes drawing me,

or

a washing away of

any maybe.

Just then his trident pierced.
This is how the meeting of eyes can go.

— The End —