I can see the flushed pink
across the bay as I
wait for the glow, focused
as I envision an orange rim
cresting over white pillows
flanked by a Pirate’s
Black Pearl.
And as my
mind lusts for its
buried treasure
hidden
in the east.
Destiny was eighteen, dreaming of college and a one-way ticket out of that one street town when Momos rolled past on his chopper having left...
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