Once
A Golden shell
travelled lifetimes to find you at the shore
Thrown back
to thwart the idea of an enchaining desire
just to prove your selfsame place
same self placed
still in fluidity
alone
How do you think that makes me feel?
My own purpose
each day moulded by this one endeavor
to find your dipped hand?
The soul is not a plaything
though
two souls at play are blended bliss
The heart is not a pink rubber ball
though
it bounces back when it falls
out of love
And what we have is not
to be taken lightly
though
it has left me weightless
and what you throw back into the sea
will not show up again
that is for certain.
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