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along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.

the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.
the year the storm broke, breached

the shingle bank.

decisions were made

i hear

to not repair
we look for sand

there is a nice long beach and lovely views out to sea

the sea that is rising
like the greys and shadow.

i like when the cars go by,

the lights go across the walls’

yes

‘ i do not think i will like very black
stopped a while as the lightness started

round me they flew never touching
we laughed in delight
at this natural thing
write of parlay

we chatted over manners and harboured edges. these things … moved the line into a place of rural contemplation.
light the darker days

of gloom and melancholia

born from intrusion

and swede.

this is quality,

a fortunate piece.
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