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what lies beneath
what lies beneath
sometimes i imagine
breaking through the surface
of innocence,
my unfreckled skin
without a single scar,
to see the ocean of grime
lying beneath. the knife blade
would sink into my flesh
like a boat disrupting
the waves--
its wide wake spreading trails of blood,
like my fingers move through
salt water in the ocean.
the bones of my wrist
would be crooked and crannied,
connected by soft, bloody cartilage.
veins would swim around
fat and muscle;
a crab would hide
under the sandy ocean floor,
crawling under muddy organs
coated in blood, not bright red
like cooked lobster
but the murky green shade
of uncaught shellfish.
with one cut,
the barrier of exploration would be
broken, the ocean floor no longer
undiscovered.
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