Trout pout

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Eyes, looking up from below

Bubbles, trickling from the waters depths,

A fishes mouth and gill’s

Scales with a metallic sheen

Jenny lurks below.

Hidden in the weeds

Pike like teeth behind those lips

Clawed hands stir the water

Webbed between fingers and toes.

Bubbles reflected in her eyes.

She sees the feet of a child,

Dabbling on the waters edge,

One grab and down it goes.

Jenny Greenteeth has struck again.

 

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