The worried expressions were even heard from the next boat across the Mediterranean and dodgy deals were being made.
Tropical telephone calls were made and the light had disappeared from our empty hearts, our empty hearts are filled with frog’s juice and passion. Makes them less empty, I know.
Choking on your memories, choking on your deeds.
F-f-f-f-follow, your lost inklings for jets and
Rays.
Purse the mouth of your face and tighten the suffocation.
Forty metres deep in a heavenly tasting stream of ocean blue.
Lost to my colours of white cigar scent and flavoured disturbances.
Sixty metres deep, closer to death. How far can this stretch?
Before I lose my oxygen and the wind of the
Black and blue faced creatures calling me invitingly.
I squeal and squirm for air holding back my fear.
Goodbye cruel, unforgiving world.
x
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