Thursday, August 27, 2009

the sand is cool and damp
and stillness condenses on the

the ocean
the churning, tidal,
moon licked mad
ocean of our collective
dreams even stops
mid lap

We got off with
half the time
and all the gold
and songs are
still sung about
us I'm told

glittering tea-lights fill
the sea, and soon it's
brilliantly lit as
a vanity mirror
and I feel my face being washed out
in the glow and the warm
beer and tonight's expectations

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