The shore calls to me.
A line of pebbles and rock.
lapping tides, sea spray.
My hands tell me to touch the surface
I wish nothing more than to be the sea.
rolling and splashing, lively and blue.
I want to journey out.
I want to be with no shore in sight.
I want to live in her arms.
Then things will grow cold.
I will again desire shore.
This time to be the earth.
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