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Ten Years Old

  • Dec 24, 2025
  • 1 min read

As if he could be ten years old again

Regain the fearlessness he had back then

A freedom having made his mind to reach

By running down a sand dune at the beach

A schoolboy who anticipates the rush

Negotiates a dune covered with brush

With seashells sharp enough to slice his feet

Like tiny pebbles on a dead-end street

Like fallen needles under thirsty pine.

He loves the smell of seaweed stirred in brine

The warm sand feeling nice between his toes

And on his skin when takes off his clothes.

 
 
 

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