we don’t shiver under the sea
not because we aren’t cold
not because we aren’t afraid
but ocean pressure is
the warmth of a hand without fingers
——
floating and leaving no trace
we don’t shiver under the sea
not because we aren’t cold
not because we aren’t afraid
but ocean pressure is
the warmth of a hand without fingers
——
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[…] crow ocean hand […]
Hmm. Why doesn’t the hand have fingers? I hope no one cut them off. Poor bloody hand. Your voice sure sounds more commanding and confident — manly man.
I just pictured it like a big blob, like a mitten but no thumb.
Manly, huh? Well thank you, much. Maybe I should go vulnerable in the next poem?
Your mind intrigues me.
Vulnerability is very sexy. Maybe you can make your voice whiny, too… oh, and pout while you’re doing that, as well. And stick your butt out a little as you’re reciting — you’ll be amazed how you sound after you follow all these directions to the tee. Get busy 🙂
The warmth of a hand without fingers
What a line
Just enough to stop and make me think
Stay thirsty my friend
T h e Sheldon Perspective
Ha ha
Thank you!