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Kimberly Lewis Oct 2016
When cold hits the desert,
I'll go to Kwajalein.
I'll go to Kwaj.
I'll go in a Micronesian jet,
and I'll ride a rusted bike.
I'll go to Kwaj,
and the bougainvillea will sing.
Oh the blue eyed lagoon
     at Emmon beach.
I'll go to Kwaj.
And the palm trees will bow to the wind.
Barbecue air.
Plumaria and Parties.
Turtles in the pit
     and milk truck shuttles.
I'll go to Kwaj
     like I always said I would.
Crescent island and
     windside waves.
Bicycle rush hour.
Coral sand and coral reefs.
I'll go to Kwaj.

— The End —