slate grey waters meet green grass and sloping sands
is it comfort or despair that wells up in me at the sight, the
endless pattern: in and out and in and out and in displays the fact
the ocean doesn't care whether i stand here watching
or not. it doesn't need me to go on
crashing in and out and in and out and in...
but i care. and i'm here -- can't stay away
from those familiar coastlines,
ragged as the edges of my heart.
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