Months after you put a
spoonful of cold
sherbet in your mouth was it
raspberry or peach or
both softly together
you're sitting on the rougher
grains of the
sand at the beach where the
ebb tide line of seashells
collect and you pick up one
fistful of them and look
in your hand
there are hundreds of them so
tiny a whole universe in and of
themselves and they are
delicate and
mysterious and
everything the sand and the
sun and time is so
hot and slow and
you remember
that was wonderful
and you are free.
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