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Night comes r      o l l i                n g                  down again in painted coats of thick onyx clouding my vision as if a brightly-striped cuttlefish,                 sister of squid has enveloped me in its dark liquid            sea ink an opaque vapor for protection, a shimmering             sheild against disillusionment pain of potential          loss endless strands of longing knotting in my hair like kelp keeping me rooted to the sea floor, feet ensconced in the soft squish of muck and earth Miraculously,     I breathe, as if a sea nympth, a mermaid holding on to the silvery scales of her reality indigo-dipped in deepest iridescence blending with fronds of vibrant greens and I am floating within a vast membrane      of brine somehow nuturing, liquid cushion of womb-water letting it slake the piquancy of thirst that bursts my tongue                into succulence Spiked in sea stars like thorny crowns, I reach out to discover new textures puncture the dark with my fingers enfold those waters       to me, letting them rock the soul           of my soul the heart       of the seed of my heart    and allow my sonar, as powerful as a whale's encompassing call to surge up through nautical miles                       of ocean depths, buoyed through layers of waves         up unto the winds that ride,      ever-tenderly, the surface     of        the     dawn
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
Call of the Dawn
Night comes r      o l l i                n g                  down again in painted coats of thick onyx clouding my vision as if a brightly-striped cuttlefish,                 sister of squid has enveloped me in its dark liquid            sea ink an opaque vapor for protection, a shimmering             sheild against disillusionment pain of potential          loss endless strands of longing knotting in my hair like kelp keeping me rooted to the sea floor, feet ensconced in the soft squish of muck and earth Miraculously,     I breathe, as if a sea nympth, a mermaid holding on to the silvery scales of her reality indigo-dipped in deepest iridescence blending with fronds of vibrant greens and I am floating within a vast membrane      of brine somehow nuturing, liquid cushion of womb-water letting it slake the piquancy of thirst that bursts my tongue                into succulence Spiked in sea stars like thorny crowns, I reach out to discover new textures puncture the dark with my fingers enfold those waters       to me, letting them rock the soul           of my soul the heart       of the seed of my heart    and allow my sonar, as powerful as a whale's encompassing call to surge up through nautical miles                       of ocean depths, buoyed through layers of waves         up unto the winds that ride,      ever-tenderly, the surface     of        the     dawn
lora-lee
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
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