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Tuesday, September 25, 2012


I swallowed the ocean in search of her beneath the waves. Now water spills from my fingertips and it gargles at the back of my throat and my shoes are weighed down like boats that lost the wind that used to fill their sails. "There goes that girl with the tidal wave heart," I hear them say.

My anchor catching on memories as I drag it through islands of good intentions. I suddenly realise that I've been looking in the wrong place, only to turn my head up to see her ablaze in the sky. "But how do I get to her?" I ask, "you can't," they say, "you were made to sink."

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