Tip of a Smile. Edge of the Sea.

the hinges that once were my well

Oiled knuckles. The strong  swollen 

Reasons behind making her stay;

Now far. Far and awkward. Broken, even. 

All I can see is the tip of her laugh. And the vastness of my familiar ocean. The wide divide that is now the height of my flight .

My home. A raven’s nest in the windy coral trees.  


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