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May 2015
Your eyes burned
Driftwood fires
Your essence clashing
Burning with the knowledge;
The salt of the sea.

I had placed you there
Sun-bleached beachwood,
Hesitant fingers coaxing towards the flame
Knowing all too well the reaction
The mark that the sea had left upon you; left you with nothing but treebones,
Accusing, twisted fingers pointed towards the sky.

And I, somehow danced
Consuming you both with bitter abandonment
Savoring both the brine and the earth
As if I knew you not from blood and chocolate;
From sweetness and necessity.
Sarah Spang
Written by
Sarah Spang  28/F/Philadelphi, Pennsylvania
(28/F/Philadelphi, Pennsylvania)   
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