It is a constant pounding,
this come and go of tides.
The whitewash of feelings
To keep the ocean alive.
Tangled in a seaweed of grief
Salty words in the mouth
and stingrays at the feet.
The water was never less alive
When it was static
Only each moment was silently still
Undertow torn by the need of movement
Tragedy and longing of foam and thrills.
Algae wrapped hearts
And sand-filled hands
Promises of abalone and whispers of crabs.
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