Sea shells.
Walking along the beach looking at the silly seagulls trying to skip the waves of the sea, Bella the image of the dawn that sinks in the ocean.
I count my footprints to see how many steps I walk but I guess everyday change just like the shapes of the sea shells that hide on the sand, where they don’t want to be found.
I wrote you a letter yesterday but you move long time ago, it seems that was just now when I was hearing your sweet voice.
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