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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Small black stone, worn smooth
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You walked on the beach in the rain
and arrived, soaked to my skin.
I shivered when you told me about him.
Tuesday, our volleyed texts stilled as you typed,
"I feel lost at sea."
The autocorrect had replaced
"sea" with "Sean."
You were a speck against the railing
of the Mary Celeste.
I craned on cracked steps
straining to mark where the horizon took you.
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