is is.
teething on small stones
forgetting the bones
below
the sky above us
watching my feaTHERS sturrgle against the tides
the winds
instead of riding and snapping up
chances like small fish in the pools
of the mind
worrying away old bones of woe
leap up and ride my love
your loves await you
my hands and hers little
walk the paths
leap the waves
glide in the clouds
dreaming never stops
nor should
you.
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