a minor pisces

cupped in our yellow hands,
we were never the bravest brave,
I took the pills again,
I out, out the easy way,

I didn't tell you first,
knew that fish don't fly,
and what's a Pisces worth,
what's the use in my,
in my Achilles tongue,
unless the fins unwind,
and there's a useless one,
there's the dreamless tide we ride.