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Low Tide

  • Dec 24, 2025
  • 1 min read

At low tide the green scarves of seaweed

Have adorned a necklace of broken shells

A shawl of glistening wells where waves creep

Iridescent like opals by the reeds.

I am safe here, a lullaby of bells

Where rusted chains are ringing in the deep

Blue shafts of the ocean. I need… I need

Forgiveness for the shame of my farewells

To be at home again, but if I leap

To the red moon, I will bleed… I will bleed

Red rain. This is my secret. Do not tell

Or I will wake you when you are asleep.

 
 
 

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