Misleadingly,
This feeling feels new to me
Like moored sailors with sea legs
and now my head is the crumpled laundry
all over this floor
Oh you again, hello--
and I know
the tighter I grip the sand
The faster it slips through my hands
So I'll carry you palms up to the sky
I'll walk slow and step soft.
I will not breath a sound
so long as you'll sit there still.
Your skin burns
the cold out of my fingertips
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