Mourning Waves


we came home from the beach that day,
and you mimicked the ocean crashing into
her
bedroom.
leaving behind a trail of seashells,
that if pressed to the ear echo,
"I'm just going to the store".
but the store closed at eight,
and it's half past ten,
but her legs never close.
so you'll buy sugar from
her.
and you'll pick yourself up from
her
bedroom floor,
and kiss
me
goodmorning.

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