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Old 11-19-2006, 06:36 AM   #10
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Join Date: May 2004
Location: l mn
Posts: 13,853
always the wet whisper of silt when tidewater seeps away and the estuary rises to the boatyard through copper light. forever a tender of blue beachglass and scales and driftwood crusted with salt. now a circle we walk for miles in search of shells, picking starfish from a sheet of silver tension, bemused by the trails of viscera, the threads of bloodless meat and resurrected forms that have no names but offer us kinship and memory in an unknown tense. then the pulse between the water and our hands, and always a feeling of something old and buried deep. heartbeat and vision. quickening sand.
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