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Daydreams And Regrets

There is nothing to be found
in the fog, even if it is
that which laps at the shoreline
and sags the palm with
the weight of dawn.

We can only see as it is
peeled away by the fire of morning,
boiled back like burning skin
from a rotten carcass.

Where ocean and sand flirt
there will always be beauty
-the scents of salt and gutted fish.

by Erin Monahan

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