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Where She Is
And as I rest
with my ear pressed
warm against the sand, I
am brought back
to a familiar dance,
to the drumbeat of waves
and her salty hair.
She sleeps inside the sea.
The same now as when I was a teen.
And here, spread out on her beach,
I am as close as I can be
without drowning.
And so I breathe
into the hot sand, breathing
as if my dream of her
might call her from the tides,
from the green currents
where dolphins dive.
For I would dance with her.
Here on this summer shore.
And with the wind,
I would write my name
in the sunlight of her eyes.
It would be for just one song,
for just one kiss with the eternal.
No, mermaid she is not.
That belongs to myth.
Her truth is
that we mortals keep dreaming—
at night the sailor singing
to his lady of the stars.
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