Floating lonely, octopus,
in a sad, sad sargasso sea
I'll drift under waves.
A reflex. two. three.
Can't feel my arms just yet.
If I flail a bit, gracefully or otherwise,
if I curl myself into a ball and see how fast I can drop to the ocean floor,
if I get scared.
I'll use the ink to write this,
instead of a letter to you
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