A ticket to the sea,
Through the glass on which
We breathe.
We knead our troubles into mush
And cast them into the deep.
Metal cables, plastic whales,
Crystal jellies, crystal scales
That hold the gentle balance
Of all our mental talents.
A ticket to the sun,
Under pine tree needles,
Our faces smile young.
A lighthouse, a song,
A mountain half a mile long,
We blow soft bubbles
From the laughs in our chests,
Unexplainable,
Unattainable,
Unchanged and nothing less.
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