Fish in Your Mouth | poem

This morning I am fog,
Glistening with the illusion
That you’re the bog I snooze in.

The view’s nice, but it’s not
The same as playing hide and seek
With the fish in your cheeks.

I could be the pond
In your belly, the puddle on
Your tongue, the lake linking
Your legs, the mud in
Your eyes that splatters
When you smile,

If only
The fish in your mouth
Played fair.


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