| Today I woke up by the shore,
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| Waves like heads would rush and struck forward
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| On a C- blank and the memories washed away by the tides…
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| She rides, back and forth, as I show back and forth
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| That mornings with window views make side of her freedom coming true
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| I paint, she walks my window pain, touching all her pain,
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| I write metaphors for her legs, spread like wings
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| I lay similes on her breast
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| Living a dream, hope out of her eyes shining beams
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| Lights bright stalls and nights we can’t remember
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| I kiss her forehead, before head just so breaksfast has it’s warning
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| On these mornings by the shore, score by the sounds played in the violins of
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| her hair blue by shallow fears
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| Swallows prides, I see the paintings of her footprints on the kitchen floor
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| And find he lives in the Beach House… 2 |