Crisp air cuts through my skin, like paper to skin

the warmth of the sun

heats the metal of the railing below my hand,

holding steady to the rough current below.

Ropes of green curl below the surface,

peeking through the waves,

currents whip past the haul,

my soul opens to the depths as I look out.

Past the cobbled staircase surrounding the light house,

and dri...

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