April 13, 2014
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The last drop of day
is when I think of swimming,
drowning in your voice.

The sun evaporates
but at night I recall
when you pushed me down

I wanted to yell
but was afraid that water
would drag me away.

Anger pours me up
and I want to cast away
from your rocky shores

when I remember
days spent burning by the pool,
salty hair dripping.

And that ebbing flow
of our mutual hatred
will only follow tides

so while in the night
I lie awake crusting through
and foaming over

in the bright morning
I will awake in a shell
and forgive again

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