Who can handle the ocean tide on a full moon night? The dancing reflections on the surface paints a figure. The shadows lightened by the glow of a smile, her tendril heart watches over the sea kelp beds.

Is it the early
gray morning
rising
that produces the melancholy
between midnight and 1am?

The stars
bedazzle
and cheer you
while i waste away
in this body of blue.

No one here ever expects the truth. The siren song subdued.

Poetry

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