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Long Beach
summer heat sifting through the sand
waves crashing to shore, drumming
the everlasting rhythm of water joining the earth.
With shells on a browned neck, she said
we are, never will I, and asked me, if I would
salt swept through the air, but still was
a taste reminiscent of honeyed sweets
her words floated on the waves like gulls
until they are swept away by tides.
But those promises held the power
to keep us above water until reaching
the safety of the warm sand.
Then we would find the glory of the sun
into our skin a blessed self-assurance.
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