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Jul 6
The syllables of conversation
scatter like Shore stones.
The Gulf prefigures you
as a dream prefigures the

child.

Salt water runs through our
toes as we walk. There are
birds and wind like kisses
lick the sides of yesterday

when the screams of love

reached

Heaven.


Caroline Shank
7.6.2024
Caroline Shank
Written by
Caroline Shank  77/F/Wisconsin
(77/F/Wisconsin)   
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