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My daughter talks to
her blueberries like
they're her friends.
My soul smiles
and I never want
it to end.
my daughter eating breakfast, she's two and a half.
Self criticism leads

to self improvement.
A great poem from me
is still well within the
bounds of  possibility!
I am but the moon
Enslaved to chase the sunset
Searching for her love.
on love
Equations
in the sand

Laid out
and toweling off

Curvatures to
algebraic form

They define her lines
shape her axis

My island of
expectation

Amid summer's long
subterfuge
For more about this
See the related poem: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3762789/costa-brava/
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