::: Fishing :::

::: Fishing :::

I suspect I fear the ocean
funny that I’ve never been
that deep green is too much
the sea is wide like your eyes
your name drips down my leg
imagine your salt on my tongue

fish lips touch in wet embrace
cold desire from scaly hearts
slippery and fresh, no escape
not forgotten is the shore, but
casting my net across these waves
you shall be eaten if caught

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