Beaches
--

If I am you,
and you are me,
then why the
mishmash
soulsash
hanging on my shoulder?
patiently screaming
--I am unique
I an complete
complete and quickly
growing obsolete.

In my paradisiacal paradigm
of selfislandhood,
misunderstood,
as if you could?

Put a label on the infinite reaches
of ocean separating beaches
we walk upon.
A hopeful eye
always scanning the horizon,
toward the shore the answer lies on.
My Metal Rusts in the Salt Air
Return to Eden
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