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Waves on the Sand
Pulled by the moon,
like the tide –
gliding across the sand.
Every grain tugs and
scrapes my fragile skin.
The sea whispers,
“Come to me…”
My body is all but
willing; until
the moon sings
her sweet lullaby.
I am drawn back
to shore.
My frothy fingers
trace the land.
I crave the
Earth,
Exhausted by Water.
I am drowning.
no end to this
vast painting of
black, and blue, and grey.
Submerged to depths unknown,
there is no air,
no light,
no sound.
Nothing but blue, and grey, and black.
Nothing
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