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Jul 2011
Warm sand escapes from under my feet,
As I trip up the winding path
And toward the rhythmic water.  

My fingers feel lonely without yours
Here, to wind through them, like a
Snake through grass. Natural,

The sun sets burnt orange
Along the horizon, sending vibrant
Reflections toward the shoreline.

I wish you were here, to see this fire
Burn out, then witness night
Creep over the summer sky,
As stars cascade down your back,
And tangle through my hair.  

We could have been beautiful.
Kirsten Christine
Written by
Kirsten Christine
   Frankie Gestone, --- and Annabel
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