Everything's turning blue
Your fingers and toes and your face in the mirror
But the soles of your feet are pink and raw
Liver-warts adorn your shell like prized gems
On a tarnished silver chalice
A plate of sandwiches lies buried beneath a pile of leaves
The perfect trap for an unsuspecting suit.
Nose stuck firmly in the jam,
Buzz words, buzz words everywhere.
In our head and in our hair.
Insidious as week old creme brulee
God's disciples and the catch of the day.
Everything's done.
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