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Click hereGold and white beaches is where she will twirl
For her audience: a lonesome cocoon.
He wants to play with his favourite pearl,
Beneath the surface of a mauve lagoon.
The oyster is free with three fingers in.
At last! The bedtime story shall begin.
He kissed her two pretty little seashells.
She surfed in, dropping her fragile defence,
Massaged his palms against the wedding bells.
Souls connected; she devours his essence.
Cruel Destiny did not make her aware
That a cancer will cut short her affair.
All the evidence she has, washed away...
To memories of a hot summer’s day...