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Feb 2020
Dragging feet down the twisted riverbanks,
seduced by what I cannot reach.
There's an island just past the current
and I am marooned on the wrong beach

A raft of driftwood, a bridge of stones
Let slip the days from when I could not breath
Ah! but now I've been swimming for years!
And from the sand, the sky melts into the trees.
Written by
Matt Bernstein  30/M/Atlanta
(30/M/Atlanta)   
153
       Matt Bernstein, Anastasia and Molly
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