- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Wrong Numbers
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Some grains get left behind
Through the pores in my soggy
Sea water laden socks
Only put on because they were
Laying on top of the pile
They seep with every step
From submerged ledge
To emerging rock gasping
For the breath of shore
And receding tide
I create a trail of sand not footprinted
But embossed back to the journey
Started some hours earlier
When the sun was at twelve
Because your smile was straight nine and three
Not eleven and one,
Nor uneven ten and two
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