money gets lost here,
with me.
we both float
in / these same puddles,
joyless
and fluid, held / up
by only penetrating thoughts
and
as yet
un/realized dreams.
it
eludes me,
sinking
down
just when i reach
my soggy hand
out to fish
for
those green edges...
like
seaweed it floats away,
sodden
as
the water
in which it soaks...
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