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Jun 11
Oil painted red sky summer
Blue moon June, and tailor-made memories
Skimming the surface like a skipped stone
Riding the ripples
Of an early summer’s amplitude
Like a light ray runaway,
Dancing with darkness anxiously on the edge of the abyss
A lone wanderer,
Searching the soil for some semblance of a soul, but
Our bound hands were meant to dig
Never to hold
Skip a stone and watch the ripples underneath a gray beard mountain.
Written by
Brett  27/M/NYC
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