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Beach

I was alone, on a beach of wonders and joy,
Sand scrubbed my ankles, holding the box
With fury, a little way inland there was the worry.
I had possibilities, and the acts of a day constructed
A few dreams that worked, and worked like a gloved hand
In distress and achievement.

I saw through my suit a parade on the beach,
The sands collected like a graph of subjugation,
No complications arose, as the flowers were just seaweed.

I looked around to fetch some seawater to rinse my head
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