and so begins this long drag to another shore,

from another place: kept, unkempt; maybe it’s all

about the time, when a smile is all it takes

to spell a day, and blue can be in an orange hue

depending on which skin is exposed with unnecessary

stares from bored eyes, the sound of waves billowing

from a rise of feelings, surging emotions belted only for

Memory’s sake –


and this space in between another jump, another swim

another moment cannot be consumed –

it drags on, until the next destination

is assured.



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