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Dec 2015
twelve a.m.
no moon in sight
we stare into a dark void
of neverending world
holding hands on the wood floor
as the waves crash upon the shore
words pour out your mouth
not a thing is understood
yet every word is soothing;
I can not speak
my breathe is taken away
by the beauty of the
dark ocean
and the comfort of your hand
which fits perfectly in mine
Anthony Zabala
Written by
Anthony Zabala  Florida
(Florida)   
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