those tentacles are surprisingly
strong
we couldn’t break our grip as the
wave crashed over us
Your skin is freckled rocks with
the splick click stream rushing
over
her hands
fish angling through your sand
When I see you I drop my eggs
they explode
into the concrete in yellow
bubbly streams
shells lie hollow
beige skin turned towards the sky
Oh take me to a cave filled with
moss let me
lie in its beds, feel water
trickle down the stalactites
when the tide comes, it will
flood and
carry
us
away
Molly Bond is a high-schooler at the San Francisco School of the Arts. Her work has appeared in Metazen, Dogzplot, Newport Review, Used Furniture Review, Vox Poetica, Up the Staircase, The Weekenders Magazine, Orion Headless, and Bicycle Review. She loves Flannery O'Connor.
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