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Jul 2012
She would rather forget him.  But she still finds sand in her pockets and
his eyes are too much like the sea for her not to remember.  
So she pinches the grains between her fingers and allows the
memories wash back to her.  Salt water streams down her face,
and somewhere far, the wind howls and the sea grass sways.
Kirsten Christine
Written by
Kirsten Christine
446
 
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