My Sand

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Drawing on the summer sand
Undetermined golden lines
For a stick my bare hand
With no purpose now applies
What my fantasy commands
Free from ordinary frames
Love initials and hearts
Or symbolic riddle games
One harmonious portrait
You are coming off the sea
With a strange body line
Like a reverse Aphrodite
My illusions to decline
And restore reality
Free from ideal lies
You are offering your hand
But my mind’s eye cries
How you’ve stepped onto my sand

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