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W e jumped into the pool late one night, E veryone’s clothes still on, ears waterlogged. L ooking down, I saw my pink shirt C linging to the cold curve of my hip,
Music plays in the backgroundFamiliar faces gathered aroundThe smack of the cue ballEchoes through the hallsSmiles and laughter with bad jokesSomeone spews their drink and almost chokes
diving into the depths of the pool where the water looks bluest sitting on the bottom crumbly white scraping my skin hearing nothing but still absence of sound so glaring
its the grass burrs stickig to your sock its the way the water looks wen you skip a rock. its the water glistening when the sun hits just right. its how it looks even prettier reflecting th moon night.
So deep, so deep. Sarcasm is my towel.