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Sailing solo,
Sand and songs,
One wet page,
All sweet and dour.

I feel the soothing caress
Of the steaming bath.
I smear the mirror
With wet tenderness.

Cold water,
Lashes at my back.
I lash out,
As if your long hands
Were grasping
Golden rings
That my fingers
Will never wear.

Sad song,
Blinking boat
Sailing solo.

The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

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