On these rainy days we make our homes in the shells of conch,
And share the meat with our neighbors because it is the polite thing to do.
On these rainy days we gather around the fire,
Made of dried kelp and turned green by the salt.
On these rainy days we string shells,
To make beautiful necklaces to sell when the sun comes up.
On these rainy days we will make empty promises,
And rejoice at the fools who believe us in the haze of the rain.
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