I like swimming in the fur,
fuzzy feelings tickling
when you pet the peptides in my skull.

It has always been her.

Sounds enjoyed so similar.
Our cochlea cuddle as they spiral in,
manifesting as melodies when spun.
Everything is in time when two metronomes become one.
Our cadences coalesce and the line begins to blur.

It has always been her.

Radiating her energy I only feel when near.
I must have ampullae of Lorenzini for real, I fear.
But tuned only to this one frequency I now infer.

It has always been her.

Now my lighthouse in the fog is fading it seems.
Floating back into a sea of darkness with waves crashing down,
as cephalopods come to caress and crush these waking dreams.
I hear the faint whispers from radula saying they are here to drown,
the one who is his own saboteur, and that yes…

It has always been her.