#octopus
The times I’ve most wished to forget
are the times that have
changed me most.
Thought after thought,
needle skipping.
Sitting in it with my
wine in an octopus mug.
Always drink your wine
from a novelty mug.
Especially when wiped,
Lost, alone, and
sitting in it.
The mug, both yours and here,
reminds you you can make
the smallest of decisions
all from your couch
on your own.
Octopuses have suckers.
This one, a porcelain handle.
Either's handy to hold on to.
What strength to admire?
All from your own mug.
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 5:39 PM UTC
a man taught an octopus piano
he did it in 6 months
it took a little longer
than getting a driver's license
or becoming a cop
not quite as long as a pilot
and way slower than having a kid
so it was hard
sure
it took a lot of fish and crab
encouragement
time
6 months
amazing
it must have been like having a kid
getting an octopus
but it took him 6 months
to feel like an a octo-parent
it takes a captain 3000 flight hours
it takes a vote to become Sheriff
and i don't know how long
it'll take for you
to become a good driver
but it takes time
and maybe after a while
after a while of eating time
to put effort into a job or craft
it becomes a music of its own
is music music to an octopus?
probably
but what it became
at first was a gateway to food
then
an outlet for something that
that octopus needed to understand
what's the point?
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 2:21 PM UTC
There once was a woman from Seoul
Who swallowed an octopus whole:
It swam in her belly
With fishes of jelly,
Then plopped in a porcelain bowl.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 11:00 PM UTC
Working in an office with a lot of girls mainly
Suddenly it was that time of year again... Christmas
And the Office party it was looming
As I went toward the pub where we were having our gathering I was feeling nicely laid back and relaxed
Primarily because I'd just been to another pub beforehand and had a few quick scoops/ drinks
Now I was bolstered, all pumped up, I was like a Boxer ready to step into the Ring.
Our pub it was festooned with decorations, lovely colours and glittery things
They were hanging out of the ceiling and stuck on every wall
Above our table a big jovial Santa Claus
Looked down, beaming at us all
As I sat down one of the girls asked rather suspiciously "Where were you?"
Holding up my alibi, a little shopping bag with some items in it
I told her, lying beautifully of course, that I had to go down the shop to get some things.
As I sat there I noticed the atmosphere was a bit subdued, people weren't talking much
I said to myself, this... this won't do
So I took it on myself to take the lead, I'd be the one to spread some Christmas cheer
So suddenly I blurted out "Wh..Wh..What does Santa say... after drinking a bottle of *** ?
"I don't know" they all said, "what does he say".
I paused a moment for dramatic effect...then I hit them with the punchline...he says "Yo ** **
They all looked at me blankly
You don't get it, Yo ** ** and a bottle of *** is the famous pirate song from Treasure Island
Santa's catchphrase is Ho!Ho!Ho!
He drinks the *** and suddenly it's Yo! Ho!Ho! (Jeez I thought, I got to explain my own jokes)
Still there not impressed, one shakes her head, another raises her eyes to the heavens, another comments "A silly joke"
But really I don't care, I say to them
I suppose you don't want to hear my Snowman joke then
"O Go on", they say, "get it over with"
It's a bit risque I warned them
What do you call a Snowman... standing outside the window of a Brothel ?
"A hot Frosty", someone said
No! ... The Abominable Snowman.
I say to myself, well at least I tried, I made an effort
I done my bit, now I can sit here quietly for the rest of the evening
Some of the girls have now started to talk amongst themselves
One girl sitting right next to me who I hadn't spoken to in awhile
She suddenly inquires after my wellbeing, she asks"How are you?"
I tell her O! You know me, I'm just... just hanging on in there, yea! just hanging on to the Ledge of Life by my fingertips trying not to look down at all the crocodiles circling below
"Things aren't that bad, are they?" she says a little concerned
I smile and say Well I might be exaggerating there... a little bit
She smiles and offers "You're a real Drama Queen".
Suddenly one of the girls announces that she's done an evening course during the Autumn, she's done Bellydancing of all things
I thought we'll have to get her to give us a demonstration later on (but not before dinner LoL)
This girl then starts asking everyone did they do any courses and what their hobbies were
Finally she comes to me and I say Well I've been making some music on this little keyboard I have, yea! I've been playing...I've been playing around with my *****
(this gets some laughs)
I go on, Actually I've been writing a song
"Writing a Song!" says one of the girls really impressed, "we know you write stories, now you're writing songs, my! you are talented. What's it about, your song ?"
I tell her it's about a girlfriend whose... well she's a bit of a Goldigger,
Then I smile, I have a great title for it, I call it (I pause for a moment then I say proudly), I call it...Octopus of Love.
"Octopus of Love!!" says one of them dismissively, "what kind of name is that for a song. There should be a Society for Prevention of Cruelty to songs"
I ignore her and then suddenly launch into a verse of the song
She said she was a dove
But she's my Octopus of Love
A hundred hands in search of one thing
only
Yea! My wallet, my Pride and glory.
When she whispers in my ear
Her fingertips they tiptoe across my rear
and into my back pocket
O! She's my Octopus of Love
She"s not at all what I dreamed of.
When I hold her in my arms
She sets off all my alarms
She tells these great big whopping lies
Man! She's got a finger in all my pies.
She said she loves me dearly
Visiting the most expensive shops
Buying the most expensive gear
I say, could you not make it more cheaply instead,
O! She's got me in her grasp
Her tentacles they hold me fast
Then she asks what's all the fuss
And she's so innocent looking
Man! She's a lovely Octopus.
"I wouldn't be giving up the day job just yet" says one of the girls,
"That's funny" says another
Then someone ups and says "Tell us another one of your little stories",
"A good one, this time!" adds another
"Yea! A good one! We need a good laugh" says another,
I feel a bit slighted by this for some reason, the way they say it, their attitude
It's like their making light of my Art, my labours, my great works
Like their just bits of fluff for their titillation
So suddenly my mood it darkens and my voice it takes on this ominous ring and then I say a little threateningly
"So you want to hear a good one, do you!"
With this I smile and then say menacingly"I'll give you a good one"
Then I look at them slowly one by one
And it's almost like I've gone into this trance state, switched into ghostly mode
A distant remote look comes into my eyes
It's like I'm looking through them into the far distance somewhere...
And then suddenly I intone real solemn like and with great gravitas
"The Great American Novel!"
"What's that?", asks one of the girls
Now most of the girls are married Moms with kids
They wouldn't have gone to college, they would have gone straight into work after school
So they probably wouldn't have known about English literature and the Classics and all that high brow kind of stuff
Their only exposure to literature would probably be the so called Chicklit books down their local supermarket,
So I say to them 'You never heard of the Great American Novel'
"No!" says one of the girls, "what is it?"
Well, I start to explain, it's like the Holy Grail for all writers, novel writers anyway
How can I explain...how can I put it... The Great American Novel...
It's like this amazing fantastic legendary mythical beast of such great beauty and magnificence
That roams free and unfettered on the literary plains of a writer's imagination,
Many an author on his death bed admits, "I seen it once, I had it in my sights...had it in my grasp but I let it get away". They then turn their heads away and cry bitter tears of regret...
Or...or it's like... it's like this Great Mountain
that's no one's ever been able to climb
It stands there defiantly, supreme in its isolation, it's peak glistening in the sunlight or shimmering in the moonlight
Unreachable, unattainable... unconquerable
(I'm really on a roll now, I'm waxing lyrical and there's no stopping me)
The Great American Novel...it's like... y'know it's like that old fairytale, what was it called
Was it Snow White. No! Snow White had the dwarves in it
What was the other one?
One of the girls whose always been a bit negative, she suddenly says rather unhelpfully
"It wasn't Pinocchio was it?"
Of course I get her reference, when Pinocchio would tell tall tales his nose would grow longer
Then I point to her and say rather surprisingly "That's it!! Sleeping Beauty!" Remember Sleeping Beauty
The King and Queen have a beautiful baby daughter
At the christening all the good fairies come and bestow Blessings on the child
She'll be the most beautiful
She'll be warm and kind and generous
She'll have a lovely heart
She'll be so wise and so artistic...
Then suddenly who should arrive but the Wicked Fairy
She wasn't even invited to the ceremony and she's really angry
She storms into the Palace right up to the child
Then she says "When this Beauty, this Child grows up she will have an accident"
It's like The Great American Novel is the Beauty, the Child
And it's like she's saying "This Beauty no one shall have, no one shall ever write The Great American Novel"
And of course, when the child grows up she's so wonderful and so amazing
But then she has this accident and falls into this strange deep deep sleep
And everyone in the castle too, they also fall asleep,
And suddenly this big thicket of dense thorns springs up around the castle so no one can enter it
Many a brave young man having heard of the Great Beauty behind the Wall of Thorns
They valiantly try to get to her but are invariably driven back by the thorns
Alas! They fail and gradually the story of the Great Beauty passes into legend.....
That is till one day, a Knight appears, a Knight so noble and pure of heart
The moment the blade of his sword touches the Wall of Thorns
A path opens up right through the thorns leading to the castle
He finds everybody there fast asleep
He climbs the Tower and finds in her chamber this incredible Beauty sleeping
He is so taken with her that he must kiss her on her lips
In that moment her eyes they open and she smiles a radiant smile. And the whole world awakens again, comes alive.
I look around at all the girls, their all a bit spellbound by my story (at least I like to think)
I go on 'It's like I was walking in my mind one evening, seeking some inspiration
And then I just turn a corner and there he is, in all his glorious splendour
Remember your Greek myths, the fabulous white winged horse... Pegasus... this beautiful mythical beast
Just there drinking at a pool right in front of me,
So quietly I sneak up on him and then suddenly I jump up onto his back
He rears up and then spreads his mighty wings
And starts to rise way above the earth
My eyes they are suddenly opened, and I see what I had not seen before....
I look at the girls but then just as before, a strange dark look comes over my face and I say
" I'm really afraid but I think, I think I've done it
I think I've nailed it
Yea! ... I think I've written The Great American Novel.
I go on 'Yknow whenever a new book comes out the Critics, they all wonder
Will this be the One, will this at last be The Great American Novel
Of course, their always disappointed, the candidates they all fall short
It was a good try but...but not quite
A valiant effort, maybe next time
In the Critics Room one of them will be given my book to read
Slowly as he reads, his eyes will grow wider
And his jaw will start to drop in awe
When he finishes he'll sit there in his chair stunned, almost like he's been shellshocked
Then he'll rise unsteadily with his finger pointing at the book
He'll be stuttering and stammering
"What's wrong!", people will inquire of him
He'll look at them in a mad crazy way
"My eyes... my eyes they've seen it" he'll say
"Seen what?" they'll ask
"It...it... it's The Great American Novel.
They'll all stand up and gather around the Book
Suddenly someone will grab a pair of binoculars and look up at The Great, the Holy Mountain
And there on the top, on the summit
There'll be a lone figure standing with his little Irish flag
"Truly he is the One", they'll say, "and a feckin' Irishman, wouldn't you know".
"So what's it about then", asks one of the girls interrupting my flow
What!', I say
"The Novel! What's it about"
I look at her and then I smile and say rather mysteriously 'Well, that's another story isn't it'.
"Wait a minute", says the girl whose usually very negative, "so the valiant Knight with the noble heart, that's supposed to be you is it ?
I raise my hands innocently as if to say what can I do
"O! I think I'm going to be sick", she says. Then she continues "Where did you get the time to write a Novel anyway. All the time we thought you were working you were probably just there daydreaming over in the corner".
"It's not very long", I say to her "my story".
"How long is it ?", she asks curiously
"Actually it's only about ten or eleven pages".
"What! Ten or eleven pages!!!", she says jumping on this with exaggerated disgust, "that's not a Novel, it might be a short story but it's certainly not a Novel. For it to be a Novel it has to be several hundred pages long ".
I tell her But 'I didn't need a few hundred pages just ten or eleven was enough, it's all there, the whole thing'.
"But it's not a Novel", she maintains
I answer, it's the spirit of the thing that matters, the Spirit!
She then gathers herself and I can feel an offensive coming
"I don't want to rain on your Parade", she begins, "but One you're not American, Two it's not even a Novel, and Third if it's anything like your song I for one won't be holding my breath".
I look at her a bit crestfallen and then I say
"You really like to burst my balloon don't you" , then I say, "I'm reminded of the classic lines of W.B.Yeats the great Irish poet
And then I declaim theatrically
"And Great Art... beaten down".
Anyway now the spotlight moves away from me, the girls start talking among themselves
"Let's leave him to his delusions", one says and now our meals are starting to arrive, I'm forgotten about for awhile.
For some reason the word "Parade' has stuck in my mind
And the pub has suddenly grown more boisterous, some people are singing and blowing whistles (those paper things that roll out and then roll back in again) their throwing streamers and confetti about
Suddenly I'm reminded of those old ticker tape parades they used to have over in New York when they'd be celebrating something or someone
All the faces looking out the windows of the skyscrapers and all the streamers cascading down, and the cheering crowds
And up on a big Podium there standing, the President himself.
I look up at the wall at Santa Claus smiling back at me
And I say to myself "Hello Mister President"
I can see him welcoming me up onto the podium, then with his hands he quietens the crowds... and then...then he speaks
"Fellow Americans, we've waited a long time for this day
Many thought I'm sure that it would never come but some...some still dared to believe Yea! That one day a man would appear and that a Book would be born"
(holding up the Book) I give you the Book
It may be a slim volume
But don't let that fool you
Sometimes good things come in small packages...
Yes! I give you the Book,
The Great American Novel!!!
And I give you... the Man (motioning to me)
"He told it like no one else could, he said it like no one else could say it
Let the bells ring out across the land, in every city and town...in celebration"
So sitting there I raised my glass to Santa Claus smiling on the wall
And said quietly and secretly to myself
"Here's to you Mr. President, Merry Christmas!
Dec 16, 2022
Dec 16, 2022 at 10:38 AM UTC
Inking an octopus
takes time and space
and detail-dexterity
with a sense of 4D
you see, their arms
flow
and your eye can't track
their deeply chronic current-cy.
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 5:08 PM UTC
in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words
Past experience is not an accurate term, as I
define its actu-
ality in my re-ality, I
see things as fine as can be, fine,
which is an idle phrase,
I often used to say,
was
not fine, to the query "how are you?".
It was a lump, tiny thing, bit of thought
coalescing scing scing sing
a bit part
in the grand drama,
like the dwarf
in the 1973
Belridger Orange Orchard Opera,
pick it up, maestro
HOW AM I? high baritone
- softly silly would it be of me
- to offer fine as a mindful reply
I often used to say, my side is winning.
Saying so sincerely, in its etymo-perfect sense,
believing, by my own leave - this
at those instances, the next word I said was leaven
intended to infect and spread, I consistently said
to how am I? "My side
is winning. "
-while deep beneath the surface of the shiny helm,
a mirror-neuronic will-ess nanomek sets ess-ential
key truth provokers to pierce the lies I belived…
In essence we sense
leaks
Bubbles of being novelize in old bottles, set upright,
too quick - cat
ch
Past experience,
knowledge gained sits idle
in past-tense, speaking
from those moments ago,
during the current experience,…
Sitting in the shade watching clouds
as the least noticed child in my life
was noticed by me, he, the middle child of five,
Sits down beside me, and says,
from "out of the blue", I really want to be…
a marine biologist.
He just finished 3rd grade, and the real reason he is
near me now, is to ask when he can return
to X-box, for the Fortnite upgrade,
tic, it begins to emanate,
this
meta-modern
emergence in me
of the idea that experience
is what we carry, as a load,
not sin and shame and blame.
I know something of marine biology.
I watched My Octopus Teacher, twice.
I mention that, to Gabe.
I think in my heart,
Experiences don't get left behind,
they follow us
as strands of us, so fine as
to be disregarded as
memories,
until we feel the experience
of being eight and being listened to.
The fundamental mental basis of time,
to word is "same yesterday, today and so on"
Think, I know what it feels like to be a kid,
but not what it feels like to be a kid and listened to.
So, I had this experience with me,
as my grandson.
I ask him, does he think he can
"Put on the mind of an octopus"?
It is a knack all mortals have, augmented now
with knowing how to feed a wish to know,
we have the internet and our wits
about us, gathered, forming knowables,
extending curios senses
into a common stateless mind realm
of all the gathered knowledge
in mankind's
experience
on earth
being a made-up mind, now
augmented with access
to the most complete
library and
searchable muse-repository, treasure horde
for experiences others offer
to goodness
in the future,
for our use in pursuit of peace, which
we form from days we experience and accept
as treasure offered to the gods of good sense.
Ever,
first imagine, ever,
ever when never was.
Image that, put it on the screen. See.
Ever after never ever can be,
- rabbi, where do you live?
around the next curve,
come and see, we filled never
with ever and left nothing
to be where never was, imagine that.
-------------
Today, I experienced learning how life functions
with no instruction, no post-ovum praxeology,
octopi never spend a post **** moment in school,
save the dearest of them all, experience.
Octo-pi odes to octopuses
just be, a living thing,
as you may be am-using controls
to respond to any event in your experience,
in the hall of harmless whims dancing in living words
quickened, as an octopus
grows five hundred new fingers feeling
-- you, dear reader - certainly, it's about you…
the link is to your attention, we paid in advance.
----------- blip
you learn to em-perience ex-perience to peers,
seeking some thing, interesting,
nothing learned, life-wise
experienced,
oh my god, a dear school, indeed
but a fool learns in no other. So, I say,
Live to learn, learn to live. Use the bait you find.
Another 21st century bit
of Grandfatherly insight, had I gone any other route
to now,
I can't imagine the riches that are mine,
not won, given
for aiming early,
at a satisfied mind, like my grandpa seemed to have.
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 9:34 PM UTC
The Octopi Jars
by Michael R. Burch
Long-vacant eyes
now lodged in clear glass,
a-swim with pale arms
as delicate as angels'...
you are beyond all hope
of salvage now...
and yet I would pause,
no fear!,
to once touch
your arcane beaks...
I, more alien than you
to this imprismed world,
notice, most of all,
the scratches on the inside surfaces
of your hermetic cells...
and I remember documentaries
of albino Houdinis
slipping like wraiths
over the walls of shipboard aquariums,
slipping down decks'
brine-lubricated planks,
spilling jubilantly into the dark sea,
parachuting through clouds of pallid ammonia...
and I know now in life you were unlike me:
your imprisonment was never voluntary.
Originally published by Triplopia and The Poetic Musings of Sam Hudson. Keywords/Tags: Octopus, Octopi, Medusa, Sea Angel, Angel, Angels, Nature, Sea, Ocean, Aquarium, Aliens, Imprisonment, Prison, Ship, Ships, Shipwreck
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 4:20 AM UTC
On a distant shore
I travel to you
I've twisted the top off my head
& filled it with thoughts of you
For safe keeping.
If by chance you hear my voice
While you read them.
You'll know they were meant for you.
If by chance they stretch cross
The lake of your womb
You'll know that a part of me
Will always reside in you.
I slouch in excitement
The only container I know.
An octopus trapped in a bottle
Your breath a taste of freedom
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC
She hugs like an octopus
Long, slim limbs
Wrapping around
With surprising force
Until fully bound
Too late to react
You are trapped
By her love
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 1:11 PM UTC
We've been captured
almost like shrimp
in a fisherman's net
With many long arms
pulling us down
Deeper into waves
October is an Octopus
All pink and grey
With big starry eyes
Leading us to Mystical
Places unknown
Places unexplored
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
a white whale in sky,
fought with a dark octopus;
west wind erased both!
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
I couldn't care less about
"Inspirational Quotes"
I don't need to be told that
the present is a gift
or what the best thing about
rock bottom is
or that only I can stop forest fires.
If I was to write one myself,
it would have less to do with
landing in the stars,
and more to do with
how much better you could see them
if you had the eyes of an octopus.
See,
Octopi have such phenomenal eyes.
The spectrum of color they see
makes our own look like
the ****** box of crayons
you get at a kids restaurant.
Whereas an octopuses,
would be the beautiful,
64 Crayola pack
I always wanted as a kid.
If I ever went blind,
I think I'd get octopus eye replacements.
And yeah,
I'd probably look weird because
they'd be too big for my head
but can you imagine how
strange and incredible
it would be?
And it wouldn't matter how I look because
how I see things
is more important to me
than how I'm seen.
If there was even the
slightest chance,
of seeing though the
eyes of an octopus,
that's reason enough to be alive.
And if I could take your life
or your perspective,
and change it even a bit,
that's reason enough too.
So look through the
eyes of an octopus.
Can you imagine the stars?
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
I once wrote about one sad Jellyfish,
that disappeared trying to find her place,
looking back now I wonder how
she swam so far away,
when she was always safe.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 4:06 AM UTC
I'm so thankful to have such an understanding and loving character by my side.
Even when the wrath of the tides within me show, he listens and answers with healing words.
He always brings a smile to my face.
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC
I want to kiss you
at the end of each night
and the beginning of every day,
I wanna be there so you can see
me smiling at the things you say.
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
Little orange octopus
that's staring at me,
your fluffiness looks comforting
but I wish you'd tell me what you see.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
*Pull me under
with you into the sea
hold me close as we sink,
and don't let go of me.
You're still my octopus.*
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 10:42 PM UTC
You've stood beside me,
and never let go of my hand.
Even when our feet were
slipping in the sand.
Surrounded by creatures, all around
we stand together
and embrace every sound,
I hope it'll stay this way forever.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
She was swimming for so long
so when she felt the octopus grab her arm
she thought nothing of it. Until it pulled her under
to where she was surrounded by the greenish blue tentacles.
She could see the jellyfish in the distance, the ones
she had been swimming to, for so long...
But the octopus grew on her
she began to love it.
Their love grew and grew, until the octopus swam away...
so far she could barely see it anymore.
eventually she began swimming again
but in the opposite direction, looking for it.
When she couldn't swim anymore, she slowly sank.
She was lost for days, but he found her again and wrapped her up.
But when she woke up, she was different.
And everything was faded.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
Perhaps…
Perhaps you won’t mind my otherworldyness
I am different, yet similar
We are both living, though that is a bit of a stretch
We have beating and living hearts, though I have three
We have a brain to think from
We both have dreams when we sleep
We are both intelligent creatures living on this earth
Perhaps…
Perhaps you won’t mind my otherworldyness
I am different, yet similar
I have tentacles, you have arms
I live in the sea, you live on land
I camouflage, you do not
I live for a short few years, while you live for decades
We are both intelligent creatures living on this earth
Perhaps…
Perhaps we are more similar than you think
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
I look across the hallway down a ways
What I see also sees me
She waves
I am astonished
Does she see that?
Does she see the way I feel?
I walk over
She is focused on me
She only sees me
I reach in
I feel a chill down my spine
I stay focused
She wraps her arms around me
I feel relaxed, soothed, serine
She can taste me
My Past
My Present
My future
She knows every little thing I have said and done
She has invaded my secrets I tell no one
I don’t mind
She pulls
I let her
I hear footsteps hurrying near
They are pulling me out
Why?
I could stay here forever
I am free here
I am suddenly released from the dazed spell she put on me
A little longer?
I don’t mind
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
Your brown eyes have such depth.
I wonder if I dove into them
how far I'd have to swim
before I didn't know
which way was up.
The abyss of your curls
surround me
pulling me under,
and I hardly struggle;
Just a few ripples,
and nothing like that lady in Jaws
with her ******** screams.
I'll take the proffered tentacle
- allowing you to lead me away
from this place.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
we are all falling
and eating our eggs
so blindly we eat them
we chew up our teeth
like a mouthful of chairs
like a gathering of bears
like a discordant tea party
we lap on our legs
we love all our swines
we swallow our foetuses
we plant pretty flowers
and consume each other’s mouths
like we’re trying to really taste
our mouths are so dry
we saliva each other
our insides are outsides
we are all sea creatures
we are all so wet and bubbly
we are so blatantly in love
like drawers full of teeth
like hands full of piano keys
like carpets soaked in birth fluid
we all are so slippery
we’re blinding our faces
we’re deafening our toes
we’re eating our eggs
and we’re falling
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 6:50 AM UTC