Things are
different
when wet
The touch,
the sight,
the sound,
the smell
I taste
my sploshy steps
in the night
As damply soggy
as the
worst ring
in Hell
It’s not
the moisture
that mutters,
Hell,
I’m liquid, so are you
It’s
the air
we hear
that’s
clashing
loudly
pretending
to be true
Yet
through air
I see the water
I can feel
and taste it,
too
This reality
is just
vapid
I can see
right through
’till you
