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Fishtalks

Updated on June 29, 2016

And so I stare at you
bending and slicing through your
little aquarium.

My friends call me crazy, you know
talking to you like this, like you'll
hear a thing I say.

You're beautiful
white scales,
majestic waves demurely splicing through
that clear water.

How do you see me?
Is my face stretched
on the glass or as it is?
Either way, you can only know your bowl
as it is the only thing that can be real to you:
e water, the pebbles, and the boy forever posed
pissing bubbles in your water.

And so I stare at you again--
for you will die if I palm you out,
and I'm simply too big for your bowl.

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