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#2
the heap of shedded garments
swallowed by ravenous white
icy fingers draw out a gasp
as wind blown strands expose
this face, tired and resigned
laughter once along the shores
lost even from these hazel eyes
tears mingle with falling rain
waves of salty mist beckon as
to the horizon footsteps fall
with no last glance behind
venus returns to the sea
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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