Her eyes are absolutely beautiful things.
They are filled with the color of the sea,
A gentle pulse of blue linen water
Bright, slipping between waves into a
Corridor of tidal pools; warm, with
Curving hands near a bundled shore of
Stones, shells, footprints of seabirds,
Tide’s departure in a whirling trance;
Forever and forever shifting, flowing in
A mason jar, only quite not everything- the
Brief scent of a child’s memory gathering sand;
Overhead clouds floating by; the horizon
Not too far off to accommodate a dream.
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