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May 2016
Of course that time was ours
and yours, before the end,
when the beach was busy and the
***** went flying and the
sand stuck to the top of our toes.
That’s what I think of when the sun is shining,
and the rain brings sweet-shop smiles,
cobbles and chips, salt and vinegar soaked.

Nothing smells like you, and the words lie too
and the shirts and the shoes are the only proof
left-over that the sand and the
cobbles and the chips,
and the laughs and the smiles were there.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
   Aeerdna, Stephan and Brother Jimmy
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