cellos

Umbrellas made of the socks of the deceased had covered the sky.
I was taking pictures of restless seagulls. They didn’t give a shit about it.
The buildings on the shores were liquid like people. The people were like fish
afraid of water after swimming in the guts of prepared cellos.
(Stray words in the guts made them clumsy like cellos.)
In the eyes of the seagulls there were throngs of merfolk.
In the eyes of the merfolk there was nothing but jellyfish.

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