THE ART OF THE FISHERMAN
What gets pulled to the surface stays
here on land. I guess. To die. There's
no recompense for one last, gagging
breath - especially being, as it were,
if water had previously been your
only element. Out of sorts, and out
of time. No Doubt. About. That.
(But why come up here if the
noises are so ungodly)?
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