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Days when the money is no good
Nights among the sand
This contest
Rules abated
Bottled up and cast into another’s tide
Minutes crash the shoreline
Drawn away on a secondhand
There are charts and star signs
Islands and coves ungoverned
There is always a name for the moon
Always another wave
Another page


About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

2 responses »

  1. Going backwards I see the tiredness growing. Maybe.


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