Saturday, 15 January 2011

Flying Fish

Trapped in our fanciful fishbowl,
Painted a perfect sky blue.
Stripped at night and everybody is fixed to the sky,
For just mere little pricks of light.
Oh, little me
The glorious fly by.
And the tunnels that they spin devour us,
And the impossible infinity they could hold-
It's enough to make a fish want to fly.

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