My bed is ruffled,
Shaped like the waves of an outgoing tide.
My dreams are all out at sea,
Lurking somewhere in the depths of the night.
I fish them out in the dark
And they are strange colours and shapes,
Dripping, dripping everywhere.
Not what I want to eat.
So I throw them back in and forget them.
By daylight I shall hunt for deer and rabbits.
They are simple and tasty and solid in my hands.
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