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Jul 2010
My father is a man of no houses
He tells life by the sunlight
Rises only when it's set.
He told me once my name would be Ocean
The eyes I recieved from him.
Our skin is of the moon
We live for the stars.

Etched in my memory are waters
His freckled hands pulling me through the current.
Hiding from the sun under pools
River protecting us from earth.
Sun would show me
It was no friend.

My father left in my third autumn
The sun had dried the river bed.
His farewell kiss lingers
Still on my brow.
In dreams I trace it
Like the final plunge to the river
I will swim again.
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