MY FRIEND

Shadow whispers

boiled up in the place.

 

Overtures of innocent violence

stirred idle fingers.

 

Unbroken sunshine dominated

the blue of deep skies.

 

A sediment of faces

is a beach of tides.

 

An undertow washes away colors of us,

revealing old stains.

 

The street, a hungry animal,

searches to devourer, never full.

 

I stand at the end of rules, the start and

the finish, just steps between.

 

Without the seasons I would find no reason

to sit by the ocean and think.

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